Finally!
by kjcp
Summary: COMPLETED
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter stuff.

Title: **"FINALLY"**

CHAPTER ONE

"When's Harry getting here?" Ron asked anxiously. He had been in the Burrow with his parents and Ginny for over a month. Sixth year had ended, strangely, without much drama from Voldemort. While there was a bit of a battle at the end of the spring term – as it always is with Voldie – no one was seriously injured or killed.

Wards had been put on the house ever since Molly had ordered that Ron and Ginny be sent straight home. She had caught them too many times listening in on top-secret Order meetings. She didn't want her children subjected to matters of the Order. Ron had, of course, objected – after all he had been seventeen for months. Ginny had grown more passive lately. She accepted that they were being shipped back to the Burrow without any yelling or screaming. After all, she wasn't quite as thick as Ron and realized that she and her older brother would have complete control of their house when their parents were sent on official Order business.

"In a few days," Mrs. Weasley replied angrily. "The same day as the last time you asked!" She went back to charming her egg beaters to whip up scrambled eggs. "Oh, Pig and Errol came back with the post. You both got your Hogwarts letters."

Ron jumped up from the table and went over by the window where Errol was trying to stand up and having a difficult time of it.

"Bloody bird. He's too old to fly."

"Oh, there's also a letter from Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said. Ron narrowed his eyes at his mother. Her face was a bit too happy at the notion that Hermione had sent Ron a letter.

Ron sat back down at the kitchen table. He tossed his sister her Hogwarts letter. She yawned and took it and opened it. She sighed.

"I'm prefect again," she murmured.

Mrs. Weasley clapped her hands together and made a fuss over her only daughter. Ginny took the hugs and kisses while Ron opened his own letter. He looked inside of it and his face fell. Molly caught on to his expression and ceased hugging Ginny.

"What? What's wrong? Are you not a prefect? Ronald!"

Ron looked up at his mother sheepishly. "Uh, no, mum. I'm not a prefect this year." He shot Ginny a nasty look as she sniggered behind her hand. She smiled at him.

"Ah, well, can't be perfect all the time, can we, _Ronald_?"

"As a matter of fact, _Ginevra_," Ron snapped back, "I'm not a prefect because I'm Head Boy." He threw his Head Boy's badge at his sister. She caught it and looked at it. She frowned. Ginny had barely gotten a good look at it before Mrs. Weasley snatched it out of her hand.

"HEAD BOY!" she screamed. "Wait 'til I tell Arthur! _Third_ Head Boy in the family!" She danced around and hugged Ron so hard he thought he was going to suffocate. She squealed. "Imagine that. Our Ron Head Boy." She smiled brightly. "Old Lucius Malfoy can take _that_ in his pipe and sm—"

"_Mum_!" Ginny interjected.

Mrs. Weasley stopped. She smoothed out her apron and composed herself. She handed Ron back his badge and went to her eggs, muttering to herself about Head Boys and prefects.

Ron didn't care to read through his list of books needed for his seventh year. He didn't want to think about all the NEWT classes he was going to have to take. OWLs were bad enough and while he did much better than he had expected, he didn't want to think about the stress he had been under to study – mostly imposed by Hermione's constant reminders about the importance of OWLs.

At the thought of his other best friend, Ron's face dropped again. It wasn't his idea of a fun year spending time going over _rules_ with Hermione. He didn't know for sure if she was indeed Head Girl, but if anyone else got the position he personally promised himself to eat his own foot.

Hermione's letter was written in her perfect joined handwriting. Everything she did was perfect.

Dear Ron,  
Things are a bore at my house. Summer holiday is never as much fun without you and Harry about. I got my Hogwarts letter this morning. I'm Head Girl. I'm sure you're not surprised. It's exciting, though, isn't it?! Although, a lot of responsibility and work I imagine. I wonder who the Head Boy is. If it's you, don't expect any special treatment just because I'm your best friend – it'll be a year of hard work and looking out for all the new prefects! Ohh! Isn't it exciting though?Oh, and by the way, your mum said I could visit any time I wanted. Things are dull here. My parents are gone on convention for New Age Dentistry somewhere in America. Those Americans are always coming up with really strange things. They're very… Muggle over there I hear. They left this morning. I can have my trunk packed by noon if the invitation still stands.  
Much Love  
Hermione_  
_

Ron scratched his chin. If Hermione was coming he would need to shave. He was beginning to look a bit scruffy. Ron immediately felt the heat rise to his ears. Just because Hermione was coming didn't mean that he had to make himself pretty. He was a _boy_ after all! And it wasn't even as if Hermione was his girlfriend. His face became even hotter at that last thought.

"Mum – Hermione wants to know if she can come for the rest of the holiday."

Mrs. Weasley shrugged. "I don't care. Owl your father and see if he won't get a portkey together for her. I daresay she hasn't had enough Apparation training to Apparate here."

"She's not seventeen," Ron said. "Not until September."

"Oh, fancy that," Ginny said, drinking some pumpkin juice. "You remember Hermione's birthday but you can't remember your own sister's."

"Sod off."

"_Ronald_!"

"Sorry, Mum."

Ron slumped down and chewed on his eggs. His mother handed him some parchment and a quill.

"Write your father first. Then, Hermione."

Ron swallowed his eggs and picked up the quill. He gave Ginny a quick glance but she was reading her Hogwarts letter thoroughly.

* * *

Exactly one week ago, Harry turned seventeen. He had counted down the seconds until midnight and as soon as it was officially 31 July he picked up his hand and pointed it at his bedroom door and said "_Alohamora_." Immediately, the twelve new locks Vernon had put on the door unlocked themselves. Harry walked out of his room and went into the kitchen.

"Accio cookbook!" he had said. He found all the ingredients needed to make himself a birthday cake and with several swooshes of his wand the large wooden spoon began to stir everything together.

"And just what do you think you are doing, boy!"

Harry turned around and looked at his over-sized prune of an uncle. "Making myself a birthday cake."

"But, you're using magic! You'll be expelled! Then what'll you do without your freaky little friends?"

Harry smiled. "It's my birthday. I'm seventeen. I'm legal. You can't stop me from doing magic." He looked back at his cake almost sadly. "Besides it's not as if you would ever make me a birthday cake anyway."

"I will not allow magic inside my house!" Vernon roared, turning a dark shade of fuchsia. "If you continue to use it I'll have you kicked out!"

Harry smiled widely. "Why don't you ask Aunt Petunia before kicking me out. See what she has to say."

Now, a week later, Harry was enjoying being able to hold out his hand at the dinner table and having the salt fly right into it. He no longer had any use to speak to any of his relatives. Dudley would no longer look at him – although it was down right difficult not to see Dudley, as he was now the size of a small bus and about nearly as smelly. Harry reckoned Dudley couldn't get all the dirt from every skin fold of his – and he had a lot.

Arthur Weasley had already been to Privet Drive to pick up Harry to take him to the Ministry to apply for his Apparation License. Harry was having a most excellent time popping in and out of rooms with a loud CRACK!

Dudley whined that if Harry could get his Apparation License then he should be allowed to apply for his driver's one. Unfortunately, as Petunia had to remind her son, normal sized cars wouldn't hold Dudley and therefore he was unable to drive until he stopped eating so many cookies (or stealing Harry's chocolate frogs).

Harry levitated his dishes to the sink and had the sponge begin to wash them for him while he ascended the stairs to his bedroom. Hedwig was waiting for him. She nipped at his ear as he picked up the letter waiting for him on his bed. The handwriting was unmistakably Ron's. He only had to read it four times before he had deciphered all the words in the letter.

Harry:  
Hermione's getting here this afternoon. Owl dad when you want to come if you want to come early. He'll arrange everything. Ginny wants me to ask you if she can use Hedwig to send a package to one of her bloody boyfriends. Errol is on his deathbed and I think Pig's too small to carry whatever it is Ginny insists on sending. Dad's going away on Order assignment, which means I'll be stuck in the Burrow with Ginny and Hermione. For MY sake, GET HERE SOON!  
-Ron  
PS Did you get your letter? I'm Head Boy   


  
Harry looked around his room. He spotted Pig sitting on his windowsill, catching his breath from the long flight from the Burrow. Hedwig was nipping at his fingers, pulling them towards the floor. Harry spotted his Hogwarts letter, obviously having fallen from Hedwig's beak. Inside it was the usual list of school supplies and books and a reminder to bring dress robes. His book list was extensive. He inwardly kicked himself for taking so many advanced classes to prepare himself for Auror training. He almost stuffed his letter back in the envelope when he noticed a second sheet of paper inside it. He looked at it.   
  


Mr. Potter,  
As Miss Bell as left Hogwarts last year I am appointing you Quidditch captain for Gryffindor. I thought you might like to know ahead of the impending season. I expect the cup to remain in my office for another year, Mr. Potter!  
Minerva McGonagall 

Harry held in an excited shout. At Umbridge's defeat the first thing Dumbledore did was reverse Harry's ban on flying. He also gave him back his Firebolt, which Harry didn't like to have out of his sight.

Harry immediately wrote Ron back. He told him he hadn't had enough fun using magic around the Dursleys. He'd come to the Burrow in the next couple of days. Harry reread the letter from McGonagall and wondered when the best time would be to tell Ron he was going to be captain. If only he could defeat Voldemort then seventh year would be the best year yet.

* * *

Ron paced back and forth in his room. Mrs. Weasley had left hours ago. She wouldn't say where – she never did. Ron didn't tell anyone, but he secretly checked the clock in the kitchen over and over again to make sure none of his family was pointed to Mortal Peril. Oftentimes, his parents' hands were pointed to Lost but they always pointed back Home. Percy's hand stayed on Lost all the time nowadays. No one had heard from him. Arthur hadn't seen him in the Ministry for almost three weeks. If Ron hadn't been so disgusted with his brother he might have been worried.

Mrs. Weasley had added Harry to their clock last Christmas. Ron checked Harry's hand almost as much as he did his parents. Only once had his parents ever been in Mortal Peril, during his fifth year, and Ron wasn't cotton on the idea to see it happen again.

"Why are you pacing?" Ginny asked, leaning against the doorframe to Ron's ridiculously orange room.

"Dunno."

Ginny sniggered at him for the second time that day.

"I really wish you'd stop doing that."

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know why you're so bloody anxious to see Hermione. You've seen her plenty of times before. She can't have changed _that_ much in a month."

Ron didn't respond. He ran his hands through his hair. He ran away from his mother the last time she came charging at him with scissors in hand, threatening to give him a haircut.

"You look like Bill," Ginny mused.

Ron turned to look at her. "What?"

"You look like Bill," Ginny said. "With your hair getting long. Mom reckons Bill's a bad influence on you. She's afraid you're going to pierce your ear next."

"Bugger that," Ron said. "Mum wants me to cut it."

"I wouldn't. It looks like Bill. And all the girls like Bill." Ginny laughed loudly as Ron's face heated up a nice shade of red. "Hermione thinks Bill's cute. Is that why you're trying to grow out your hair?"

Ron picked up one of his pillows and threw it at his little sister. "Sod off, Ginny! You don't know what you're talking about." Ginny's laughter trailed down the hallway and disappeared into her room.

Ron ran his fingers through his hair and looked at himself in the mirror.

"She has a better idea of what she's talking about than you think," the mirror told Ron.

Ron frowned and spat on his mirror. "You can sod off, too."

He flopped down on his bed and looked at the Keeper of the Chudley Cannons wave to him from a poster above his bed. He began to doze off. Ron wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping when he woke up. He heard a strange squeaking from outside his window. He jumped off his bed and opened up the window and looked down.

The three-decker Knight Bus had braked and a thin girl with a bushy ponytail was getting off, lugging her trunk behind her.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron called, waving.

Hermione looked up, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. She smiled and waved back. The Knight Bus pulled away from the house and disappeared from view.

Ron looked at his friend, dressed in jeans and a white tank top for summer. Her skin was darker and she looked thinner. Ron cursed himself as his heart gave a small leap inside of his chest. He looked past Hermione at the woods behind her. He could see two hooded figures coming from out behind the trees. Ron's leaping heart began to race. How did two Death Eaters get through the wards?

"Hermione, look out!" Ron called. He grabbed his wand from his bedside table and flew down the stairs and out of the back door. By the time he reached the side of the house and Hermione one of the hooded figures already had a hold of Hermione. She was kicking and fighting to get free.

Ron raised his wand at the Death Eater. The second hooded figure pointed his wand at Ron while the first had his pointed directly at Hermione.

"Put the wand down," the first Death Eater said. "Or we'll make your worst fear come true!"

Ron furrowed his brow. "My worst fear?"

The Death Eater nodded.

"My worst fear?" Ron repeated. "You're going to turn her into a spider or something?"

It was everything the Death Eaters could do to keep from laughing.

"No, you stupid boy!" the second Death Eater shouted. "We'll kill _her_." He nodded towards Hermione.

Ron's face paled.

"That _is_ your worst fear isn't it? To watch her die? To watch her heart slowly stop beating?"

Ron swallowed. "I…" He looked at Hermione. Her eyes were dancing all over his face. Tears were about to swell over. She kept struggling.

"Keep still!" the first Death Eater said.

"What, you thought your biggest fear was _spiders_?"

Ron looked at the second Death Eater. He shook his head. "No."

"That's what we do. We make people's worst fears come true. We kill the ones they love. We kill those who get in the way. And this little girl fills two of those requirements." He laughed a raspy laugh. He pointed his wand more steadily at Hermione.

"Please…" Ron said. He lowered his wand. He dropped it to the ground.

"Ron! No!" Hermione squealed.

"Don't hurt her," Ron whispered.

"You don't want to watch her die?"

Ron shook his head. "No."

"You admit this is your greatest fear? To watch her _die_?"

Ron nodded.

"And what do you have to say for yourself?"

Ron looked back and forth between the two Death Eaters. "Take me instead."

**A/N:** Far from over. Review please! I love the idea of reviews!


	2. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

                Ginny looked through Ron's window down at the scene below her.  Two hooded figures were yelling at Ron.  One of them held a struggling Hermione in their arms.  Ginny frowned.  She dashed into her room and searched for her wand.  She found it and ran back to Ron's room.  She kept an eye on the hooded figures below her.

                "You would offer yourself instead?"

                Hermione had begun to cry.  "Let me go!" she cried out.  She swung back her leg and kicked the Death Eater that had her in the shin.  He yelped and loosened his grip on her.

                Ginny rolled her eyes.  She pointed her wand at this so-called Death Eater.  "Accio cloak!" she yelled.  She held out her hand as the black cloak flew from the Death Eater's head and up towards the window.  Standing below, clutching his shin was a very annoyed looking George.

                Ron's eyes flew to the second Death Eater who had now pulled his cloak from his head.  Fred smiled widely at Ron.  He picked up Ron's wand from the ground and handed it back to him.

                "Don't look so cross," George said.  "We were just having a bit of fun."

                Hermione frowned.  "You're lucky you're not at Hogwarts.  I'd give you detention for a month!  That was _not_ funny!"  She wiped the tears away from her eyes.  "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

                George looked up at Ginny.  "How did you know it was us?"

                Ginny pointed down at George's shoes.  "I didn't reckon Death Eaters would wear orange sneakers," she called back.

                Ron glanced up at his window but Ginny had already disappeared.  He looked at his brothers.  Fred came over and clamped a hand on his shoulder.

                "Good joke, yeah?  What's with you giving up your life for Hermione, then?"

                Ron looked at Fred and punched him in the stomach.  As Fred doubled over in pain, Ron tucked his wand into the back pocket of his jeans and strode towards the lake obviously furious.  Hermione watched him go.

                "_Damn_," murmured Fred.  "He hits hard."

                "You deserve it!" Hermione cried.  "I can't believe you would do that!  You _know_ we've been taken by Death Eaters before.  If you wanted to scare us you should have just tried to sic another troll on us!"

                "What's the fun in that?" George asked.  "Now you know Ronnie's greatest fear!"  He laughed and slapped his knee.  "How about a nice Green Crème for your trouble?"  George pulled a piece of candy wrapped in green paper from his pocket.

                "As if I would take any food from the likes of the two of you.  What does it do, turn my hair green?" 

Fred shook his head.  "Nah, it turns your skin green and scaly, like a lizard."  He smiled again.  "Shall we get your trunk then?"

                Fred and George picked up Hermione's trunk and carried it around the house to the back door.  Ginny crept around the corner and smiled at Hermione.  She reached out and touched the girl's shoulder.

                Hermione jumped at the touch.  She turned her head around and looked at Ginny.  The younger girl's hair had grown much longer over the past month.  She had it tied back with a green ribbon that matched her green t-shirt.  Small curls that couldn't be held back by a single ribbon hung around her face.  Ginny scrunched up her face.

                "Dirty trick?"

                "Dirty_ rotten_ trick," Hermione replied.

                Ginny shrugged.  "There's too many wards around here for two Death Eaters to _actually_ get inside.  Besides, Mum told us this morning that she asked Fred and George to stop by in case she didn't get back.  She's doing Order stuff.  Always doing Order stuff."  Ginny rolled her eyes lightly.  "I wouldn't mind, really, but I'm tired of making dinner.  Ron can't cook and all he does is complain about being bored."

                Hermione looked towards the direction Ron had stalked off to.  She wondered where he went.

                "He's probably by the lake if you're thinking of going after him."

                Hermione arched an eyebrow at Ginny.  
                "I mean, he's got to be real embarrassed, yeah?  He could probably use a good snog."

                Hermione didn't give Ginny any reaction.

                Ginny grunted and stomped her foot on the ground.  "Come _on_, Hermione!  It's not like we don't _know_."

                "Know what?"

                "That you fancy Ron!" Ginny cried.

                "Oh, don't be ridiculous."

                "Right, well, you go find Ron.  Meanwhile, shall I put your trunk in the twin's old room or would you rather it be in Ron's?"

                "I'm not listening to this."

                "You know he fancies you, too.  You're too clever not to have noticed."

                Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.  "Oh, yeah?"

                Ginny sniggered.  "Oh, yeah.  He was pacing back and forth in his room today he was so anxious for you to get here.  And I think he actually might have polished his Head Boy's badge to show you."

                "He's Head Boy?"

                "Third in the family.  Not that I think he deserves it."

                Hermione's gaze fell back to the direction Ron went off to.  "Maybe I shall go after him…  Just to make sure he's all right."

                "Oh, of course," Ginny replied.  Hermione couldn't help but hear the amused tone in the girl's voice.

                Ginny turned back towards the house while Hermione walked towards the lake.  She kicked away an overzealous gnome as she walked through the garden.  She knew the way to the lake very well.  She had visited the Burrow several times over the past few years.  She liked the way it was so magical.  She even liked Mr. Weasley's collection of plugs and had recently given him an old extension cord of her parents for his birthday.

                Ron was sitting by the lake, in the grass, with his head tucked between his knees and his arms covering his red hair from view.  Hermione's heart went out for him.  She knew he must feel the fool.  Of all Fred and George's pranks, this was, by far, the worst.  And she had thought them turning Molly Weasley into a canary had been awful.  Ron's breathing was slow and steady.  She didn't want to frighten him by sneaking up beside him.  But, she didn't want him running away from her, either, if she made her presence known too soon.

                Of course, Ginny was right.  Hermione had known long before now that Ron fancied her.  How could she not?  Harry certainly didn't care if she wrote novel length letters to Viktor.  Nor did he care if she studied in the library with fellow prefect MacMillian.  Ron was the only one who was ever jealous.  He always insisted she go to Hogsmeade with him as soon as the notices went up to ensure she wouldn't be able to go with anyone else.  In sixth year he had given up arguing about studying, but would only do it if she was going to the library by herself.  Sometimes he would join the study group she had formed.  He'd either get there early and take a seat right next to her, or force his way in between her and someone else if he was late.  He didn't like sitting next to anyone else.  He had even saved her bits of lunch when she was too busy in the library to eat.

                _Of course_, Hermione knew he fancied her. 

                She was just having too much fun watching him turn red every time she indiscreetly brushed her arm against his.  She didn't want to make the first move.  If Ron was so thick that he couldn't see Hermione fancied him, too, then perhaps she _would_ have to make the first move.  This was the only real chance she had gotten, though, to call Ron on his feelings.  If it was true – if Ron's greatest fear had leapt from spiders to her dying (and what a giant leap that was!) then she couldn't sit back and not say anything to him.

                Hermione smoothed her tank top and rubbed her arms.  She got a sudden chill, even though the summer was extremely warm.  She had to admit, she was nervous.  She walked closer to Ron.  She saw him tense up a bit, which she knew meant he had heard her – or someone – coming towards him.  She sat down next to him in the grass.  She looked at the lake.  The sun was reflecting off it nicely as it began its decent behind the horizon.  Hermione nudged him with the side of her body, hoping to get Ron to acknowledge her presence.

                "Whadda you want?" he asked from underneath his arms.

                "To see if you're all right."

                "I'm fine."

                Hermione frowned.  "Fred and George are awful prats."

                She had hoped to get a response from Ron but all she got was an agreeing snort.

                "They were just having a bit of fun," she continued.  "You shouldn't be embarrassed."  She paused, waiting for a response from Ron.  "May I ask you something?"  She paused, again, hoping Ron would answer.  She sighed.  "Is that really what you're most afraid of?"  She waited.  "Ronald!  You're seventeen – you're too old to be ignoring questions you don't want to answer.  Honestly, sometimes you're as bad as Fred and George!"

                Ron lifted his head but he covered his eyes with the palms of his hands; his elbows rested on his knees.  Hermione looked at him.  His red hair was long and shaggy – in a very stylish Muggle way.  Although, she very much doubted that Ron knew how sexy that hair would be in the Muggle world.  His white t-shirt was a bit too small for him.  She could see that he had bulked out some.  He would never be muscular or cut, but he was no longer skinny and lanky.  She wondered if he had stopped growing.  He already towered more than a foot above her.  He was strong enough to pick her up and swing her around – which he had done on countless occasions.  Most recently when he had passed his Charms final with a hundred percent.  Only Hermione could have forced him to study enough to ace a final.

                "Honestly, Ron!"

                There was a silence from Ron.  He took in a very deep breath and said, "Yes."

                "Yes, what?"

                "Yes, that's what I'm most afraid of."

                "Oh."  Hermione felt herself blush.  She cleared her throat.  "Why?"

                Ron shrugged.

                "Oh, for crying out loud!"  Hermione reached over and pulled Ron's hands away from his eyes.  He kept his head facing straight ahead at the lake.  But, slowly he turned and looked at her.  His eyes looked almost wet and Hermione wondered if he hadn't been crying.  Tall, six-foot-five Ron, as thick as her Charms essays, crying?  Surely not.

                "Why?" she asked again.

                "I dunno."

                Hermione rolled her eyes.

                "I don't!" Ron said harshly.  "It's what, I guess, I'm scared of most.  Everyone dying.  You, Harry, Ginny, my parents, my brothers… you."

                "You already said me."

                Ron looked away.  "Oh."

                "You know it's very sweet that you would ask to be taken by a Death Eater in replace of me."

                "Well, that's what a man's suppose to do, isn't it?  Sacrifice himself for the ones – for his friends."

                Hermione leaned back on her elbows in the grass.  She stretched her legs out in front of her.  "I missed you."

                "Yeah."

                Hermione almost laughed.  "You didn't miss me?"

                "I did."  Ron leaned back against his elbows as well.  He didn't look at Hermione, though.  He made sure his eyes traveled everywhere except for towards her.

                "I'd give myself up for you, too."  She said it so simply that Ron flinched.

                "Why?"

                "Because I care for you too much to see you get killed."

                "Yeah."  Ron nodded.  Hermione knew he understood.

                They stayed there by the lake in silence for a while.  The sun was almost dipped down beneath the earth before either of them spoke again.

                "I thought I was going to have a heart attack," Ron said.  "Before I knew they were Fred and George I thought they were really going to kill you.  I think I almost cried."

                "I _did_ cry," Hermione said, sniggering a bit.

                "Yeah.  I could kill them for making you cry."  Ron sighed.  "You know, Hermione…  I…"

                "Yes?"

                "I think I'm most afraid of _you_ dying."  Ron paused, turning redder than Hermione ever remembered seeing him before, but then began to ramble off words very quickly.  "I mean, I'm used to thinking that Harry might not make it.  We're all sort of programmed to think that Harry could die.  After knowing what that prophecy said about him and You-Know-Who.  And, I mean, you're my very best mate and all.  Besides, if a Death Eater killed you, I don't know how I would pass my NEWTs."

                Hermione laughed heartily at Ron's last statement and to her disbelief, his face grew even redder. 

                "Sorry," he mumbled.  "Plus, I think I might miss you if you, er, died."

                Hermione sighed.

                Ron turned his head and looked at her, at _her_, at her face, her eyes.  "I don't know if could really handle it if anyone else died.  I mean, I wasn't really all that close to Sirius, but I did spent Christmas with him and talked to him a lot over the summer before last.  And, I didn't know Cedric.  But, I really just think that if someone… _close_ to me died.  Well, I don't know how I could handle it.  I'd probably go bloody nuts like Harry and not speak to anyone for a month." 

                Hermione nodded.  "Yeah."

                "But…"

                Hermione raised her eyebrows.  "Yes?"

                Ron's eyes adverted away from hers again.  "But, um, well, if _you_ died…  I think I'd handle it pretty bad.  Worse, almost, than if Harry died."  Ron flopped back onto his back and looked up at the sky.  "This is so bloody stupid."

                "What is?"

                "_This_!" Ron exclaimed.  "Last year I swore you'd drop your quill next to me just to brush against my arm when you bent down to pick it up."

                Hermione blushed.  "I did.  Sometimes."

                "Why?"

                "Just a silly game, I suppose."  Hermione shrugged.  "I don't know."

                "A game?"

                "To get a reaction out of you.  To watch you blush.  Why do you always get jealous when I write to Viktor?"

                Ron groaned.  "I like it when you get angry and because you could do a lot better than _Vicky_."

                "Oh, yeah?  Like who?  You?"

                Ron shrugged.  "Why not me?  I'm definitely a lot better looking than Viktor."

                Hermione laughed out loud again.  She watched as Ron blushed again.  "So, you fancy me?"

                "I dunno."

                "_Ron_."

                "I guess so."

                Hermione smiled.  "I thought as much.  Well, I fancy you, too, if it makes you feel any better."

                "Since when?"

                "I dunno.  Fourth year.  I really only went to the Yule Ball to make you jealous.  I knew you'd never ask me.  I just didn't know you'd get _that_ upset."

                "_Fourth year_!" Ron cried.  "Why the bloody hell didn't you say something?"

                "It was more fun watching you _not_ say it."

                Ron groaned.  "Girls.  I'll be damned if you lot _ever_ make any sense."  He paused awkwardly.  He sat up straight and turned to look at Hermione.  "Can I ask you something?"

                Hermione nodded.

                "Can I kiss you?"

                Hermione studied Ron's face for a moment.  The lines on his face had grown hard – like a man's – and his red hair was falling into his blue eyes.  Hermione's breath caught in her throat.  She smiled and nodded.

                "Oh, good," Ron said.  He leaned over and bent his head down and touched his lips to hers.  He pulled away after a moment.

                Hermione pushed herself up so she was no longer lying back on her elbows but sitting straight up, just like Ron.  She looked annoyed.

                "Do I have to teach you _everything_, Ronald?"

                Ron frowned.

                "That's not what I'd call a proper kiss."

                "Oh, really?"

                Hermione shook her head.  "_This_ is a proper kiss."  She pulled the front of Ron's shirt towards her and crushed her mouth against his.  At first it was a hard kiss, but as they both relaxed, it became soft.  She even let Ron massage her own tongue with his as he put a hand behind her ear, at the back of her neck.  He kissed her for what seemed like hours.  And the amazing thing to him was that she was actually letting him.

                Ron felt his hands tremble as his mind swarmed with all the places they yearned to touch.  Her white tank top clung so very close to those breasts that he had tried for the past two years not to stare at.  His hands ached to touch them.  Ached to feel just how soft and just how firm they were.  Ached to feel –

                "Ron," Hermione said into his mouth as she pulled away.

                Ron blushed and removed his hand from the side of her face.  He brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. 

                "It's just that it's getting dark.  And, well, I _am_ a bit hungry for supper."

                Ron nodded.  "Yeah."

                "Are you all right?"

                Ron nodded again.  "Yeah, that was just a bloody good snog."

                Hermione smiled.  "And just how many snogs have you had?"

                Ron blushed again, this time more deeply.  "Well, just the one."  He stood up so Hermione wouldn't have to look at his red ears.  He held out his hand to help her up.  He expected her to let go after she stood, but she kept a hold of it as they walked back to the Burrow.  Even if his brothers' nasty trick _had_ gotten him to admit he fancied Hermione, that didn't mean he still wasn't furious at them.  Hermione squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek before letting go of him and walking into the kitchen.  Ginny was helping herself to turkey and hot rolls while Fred and George were drinking pumpkin juice and hunched over a piece of parchment.

                Ron sat down at the table and passed himself some turkey and bread.  He didn't acknowledge his brothers all throughout dinner and didn't say goodbye when they Apparated back to their flat in London.

**To Be Continued…**


	3. Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Ginny felt right good about herself that night. She had seen the looks Ron and Hermione cast back and forth at one another and knew that Fred and George's little trick had worked. Whether or not it had been their intention – Ginny guessed they were quite _that_ smart – it didn't matter. They twins levitated Hermione's trunk up to their old room. They had to bring a chair from the living room as well as they had taken all their furniture with them to their new flat. George transfigured the chair into a nice bed for Hermione and said their goodbyes and apologizes with twinkles in their eyes.

Hermione sat down on the bed and sighed. Ron had gone straight to his room after eating dinner. He had shut himself in there and hadn't come out for the rest of the night.

Opening her trunk, Hermione found her Arithmancy book. She changed into her pajamas and settled down on her bed to read. She wanted to get ahead in studying. After all, it was NEWT year.

In his room, Ron paced back and forth, as he always did when he was thinking. He had kissed Hermione.

"Blimey," he said to himself.

He returned to his pacing. Now what? When was he allowed to kiss her again? If it was up to him, he'd snog her every hour on the hour for an hour. Unfortunately, he knew Hermione too well to know she wouldn't go for that. Was she his girlfriend now? His pulse quickened at that thought. What would Harry think? Ron hated to talk about these things – he was a _guy_ after all. But, he wasn't sure how to work them out without talking about them. He tripped over his words so much around Hermione, especially when he was nervous.

There was a knock at his door. Ron swallowed and crossed the room to open it. It was Ginny.

"What do you want?"

Ginny smiled. "Mum owled. She's at Headquarters. She said she'd be home in the next couple of hours. She wanted to know how Hermione was. I didn't know if you wanted to answer that."

"Hermione's fine, you know that."

"She asked one of us to apologize to her for having to take the Knight Bus. Said Dad couldn't get an authorized Portkey until the day after tomorrow." Ginny shrugged. "_You'll_ have to apologize for us," Ginny said with a wide, fake yawn. "I'm going to bed. G'night!"

Ron frowned at his sister. He wasn't sure when she got to be such a damn vixen. He decided to take a shower instead of worrying about Ginny. He washed his hair and stayed in there until the hot water began to run cold. He dried himself off with his old orange Cannons towel and pulled his pajama bottoms on. Bill, not being quite as tall as Ron, but certainly taller than the other brothers, sent Ron some of his old clothes as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley couldn't always afford to buy Ron new pants – it would seem as if Ron grew an inch a week. Ron secretly hoped he'd stop soon. He felt awkward being so much taller than Harry and, especially, Hermione. His hands were twice as big as hers and he could easily step on her if he didn't constantly watch the floor when he walked.

He walked out of the bathroom and back towards his room. He stopped before entering. He didn't really want to go to sleep. He wasn't tired yet. Although, he could certainly use some more of that turkey Ginny made. It was always excellent.

Bounding down the stairs, knowing he wasn't going to wake anyone, Ron searched the cupboards until he found his special Cannons plate. He piled it with turkey. He poured himself some pumpkin juice and sat down at the kitchen table and began to eat. No matter how much he ate it never seemed to make any difference. He was still very much on the thin side. He had been able to bulk out some, since his growing had slowed down tremendously, but he still didn't look like a Bill Weasley – height and muscle and looks. Not that he wanted to be his brother, but Ron imagined it had to be kind of nice attracting girls everywhere you went – especially part veelas. You knew you had it going on when you could get a veela.

"I heard you making noise," Hermione said, coming down the stairs.

Ron looked up at her and blushed. "Sorry." He was suddenly extremely aware that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

Ron rolled his eyes. He drank some juice and looked up at her again. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I was reading."

"That's unusual."

"Arithmancy. I wanted to get a jump-start on next term. I'm a bit worried about NEWTs. I just hope I do well enough on them that the Ministry will want to give me a job. I've been thinking of the Department of Mysteries even though I don't really believe in all that Divination prophecy stuff. They won't tell you what kind of jobs they have there but I bet there's loads of interesting things there. Like code-breaking or – or –"

Ron almost laughed. "I'm sure you'll do just fine. Want some turkey?"

Hermione glanced down at Ron's plate and shook her head. "Is everything you own Cannons?"

Ron shrugged. "It's my thing."

"Ah." Hermione sat down at the table across from him. She opened up her book and began to read.

Ron finished his turkey and pushed the plate away. Hermione didn't seem the least bit interested in him. He rested his head in his hands on the table. He looked up at Hermione. Her face was half hidden by her book.

"Is that book interesting?"

"Yes." Hermione didn't lift her eyes.

Ron sighed. He took one of his hands and flicked the back of the book. She lifted it higher. Ron flicked it again.

"Ronald Weasley!"

"You sound like my mother. If you're going to come down to the kitchen to see me why are you reading a book?"

"You were eating."

"I can talk and eat."

"I saw." Hermione made a face. She turned back to her book.

"Do I get to tell Harry I snogged you when he gets here?"

Hermione blushed and Ron inwardly patted himself on the back for getting a reaction from her. He sat up and looked at her. She didn't raise her eyes from her Arithmancy book. All the while he stared at her, studying her face, the way her eyes flew from left to right over the pages in her book, he noticed the sides of her mouth twitching slightly. Finally, she put the book down and gave him an almost-smile.

"Do you know how infuriating it is trying to read and someone distracting you?"

"I was only looking at you."

"Can you stop?"

"Well, I was down here in the kitchen first," Ron said. "Besides, every time I look at you I want to snog you."

"Oh."

Ron shrugged. "Didn't you like it earlier?" He began to feel nervous. Maybe she hadn't liked it. Maybe she'd never want to do it again.

Hermione must have seen the uneasy expression on Ron's face because she got up from her chair and walked over to sit in the chair next to him. She smiled and reached out and touched his cheek with the palm of her hand.

"It was lovely," she said, turning a bit red herself.

"Well… umm… that is… what now?"

"What now?" Hermione repeated.

"Yeah. When do I get to, you know… kiss you again?"

"Oh. You don't always have to ask for permission, you know. If we're going to try this on for size – this you and me thing – then a lot of it shall be just feeling things out."

Ron's heart skipped a beat at hearing Hermione say "feeling things out." Feeling, yes, he wanted to feel a lot of things. He wondered what she was wearing underneath her summer pajamas.

"I daresay neither of us knows how to go about things like this. And this being a NEWT year I also daresay that we shan't rush into things. If we take things slow that would probably be best."

Ron wasn't really listening. He was watching her mouth move when she talked. As frustrating as it was to always listen to her apply logic to every situation, it was even more frustrating having her two feet away from him when he wasn't wearing a shirt. He felt the back of his neck sweat and he had to give in to pure impulse. Ron kissed her. For the second time that day his lips were on Hermione's and his tongue was begging entrance into her mouth. She parted her lips and Ron eagerly went forward. He had no idea what to do with his hands. They were so large and he felt rather clumsy sometimes having every part of him be twice as big as her. He opted for her knee. He placed one of his hands on the place right above her knee, right before her leg became thigh. After a moment he felt bold enough to move his thumb across the skin. It was so smooth and Ron subconsciously let out a slight moan.

Hermione pulled back. "What was that?"

Ron fumbled around for words. "I… um… I, uh, don't rightly know. I mean…" His voice trailed off.

"Well, I think I better head up to bed anyway. The Knight Bus sure takes energy out of me."

"Oh! The Knight Bus! Mum wanted me to apologize for you having to take that. Dad couldn't get a portkey –"

"I know. Your dad told me." Hermione stood up and smoothed out her pajamas. "Aren't you coming?"

"In a minute."

Hermione looked at him suspiciously for a moment before walking over to the stairwell. He couldn't very well tell her what was wrong. It was her own fault that she had certain affects on certain bits of his anatomy. As he walked up the stairs a couple of minutes later he heard a loud CRACK! from the living room. He could hear his mother's muttering and knew that her clock hand would be now pointing safely back Home.

* * *

Arthur owled Harry and told him to be ready and waiting outside of his house at three o'clock sharp a couple of days later. Mad-Eye Moody and Remus Lupin and Tonks would be accompanying him, along with Arthur, back to the Ministry where Harry could safely Apparate to the Burrow with Mr. Weasley that evening.

Vernon didn't look up from his paper and Dudley was trying to hide behind the couch when Harry clamored down the stairs with his trunk and Hedwig's cage in hand. Harry packed everything he owned – which wasn't much – into that trunk. He knew he wouldn't be returning to the Dursleys' next summer. He was a legal wizard now. After his NEWTs he'd be able to apply for a job somewhere and get his own flat. If not, he knew he could always stay at the Burrow or even Grimmauld Place if it came to it. But, he rather fancied the notion of him and Ron getting a flat in London.

At the ministry, Harry waited with Lupin. He tried to get him to tell him what the Order was doing, but Lupin evaded all of his questions. Disgruntled, Harry let the matter dropped and waited for Mr. Weasley to finish up work. He noticed that Lupin constantly fingered a scar on his neck. Harry didn't know what the scar was from but he thought it might have something to do with Sirius. Lupin had only started touching it after Sirius had gone.

Harry felt as bad for Lupin as he did for himself. Lupin was the only one really left of the Marauders. Wormtail was as good as dead and James and Sirius actually were. Lupin's parents were long gone and Harry knew the only family his old professor had left was the Order and, well, perhaps Tonks. Not that Remus had said anything, but he saw the way he looked at her. It was the same way Harry looked at – Harry shook his head and dismissed the thought from his head.

Now that Harry was seventeen he had no more use for the Dursleys. They were the last bit of family he had left. Now he just had to hold on to the Weasleys as long as he could. They were more like real family anyway.

"Ready to go, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Harry jumped up and nodded. "Absolutely."

"Good. Let's go."

CRACK!

Ginny's head whipped around and she saw her father Apparate into the kitchen.

CRACK!

Ginny watched as Harry appeared a moment later. She smiled at them. Harry looked the same. His black hair as wild as ever, his glasses scratched, and his clothes a bit too big for him; his jeans were held up by a belt and she was sure if removed they'd fall straight to his sneakers. She laughed to herself at the thought. Harry had grown his hair out in front long enough to cover his scar.

"All right there, Gin?" Harry asked.

Ginny smiled wider. She noticed Harry was the only one who ever called her Gin. Not that she minded. Although, Dean _had_ noticed and wasn't keen on the idea of Harry being so close to his girlfriend.

"All right," she answered.

"Did Hedwig deliver that package you wanted sent?"

Ginny glanced at her father but nodded. "Yes. It was Dean's birthday."

That seemed like all the explanation Harry needed. "Where's Ron?"

"Ron's up in his room."

"Thanks!" Harry took his trunk and dashed up the stairs.

Ginny counted the seconds until she heard a loud _thud!_ from above. She knew Harry had run into Ron's room and tackled him to the floor. It was their new way of showing affection for one another. They often punched each other's arms and then laughed about it later or put each other in headlocks. Ginny always rolled her eyes and adverted her eyes but she thought it was funny. They were just like Fred and George. She just hoped that they never _really_ punched each other.

Up in Ron's brightly orange room, Harry was mussing up his hair. Ron looked at his friend with slight bemusement.

"I dunno why you do that. Your hair never falls into place as it is."

Harry didn't have an answer for him. "Where's Hermione?"

"Reading." Ron looked away from Harry.

"When'd she get here?"

"Day before yesterday." Ron sat down on his bed. Harry flopped down on the extra one he always used.

"I should go say hello," Harry mused. He didn't move from the bed, though. "How is she, then?"

"Good… good…"

"I wonder if Seamus owled her yet."

The hair on the back of Ron's neck prickled. "What are you talking about?"

Harry looked over at his friend. "Didn't you hear him at the end of last year?" When Ron shook his head, Harry continued, "well, when Seamus and Lavender broke up Seamus started in talking about how much Hermione's… matured… since first year. He said he was going to owl her over the summer and see what he couldn't start up with her."

Ron felt his skin boil at the thought of Hermione and Seamus.

Harry looked back up at the ceiling. "I don't reckon she'd go for a bloke like Seamus. Is she still writing to Viktor?"

Ron grunted. "I dunno."

"What's with you?"

"Nothing." Ron leaned back on his elbows. It was now or never. "I snogged her."

"Snogged who?"

"Hermione."

Harry jumped up from the bed. "What! Are you serious?"

Ron nodded.

"_Finally_," Harry breathed.

Ron looked cross. "What do you mean '_finally_?'" he demanded.

"We _all_ know you fancy her," Harry replied. "It's not as if you two don't make it bloody obvious or anything."

"Sod off, Potter."

"You know it's the truth, Ron. Besides, Hermione's gotten… erm… pretty. The other seventh years will be jealous."

"Yeah?"

Harry sniggered. He couldn't wait to see the look on Seamus' face when they got back to school. "Just don't snog in front of me, all right?"

"All right."

"And don't tell me any details. Hermione's like my sister. It would be weird hearing that sort of stuff."

Ron blushed. "Well, she wants to take it all slow. So, I imagine there won't be much to tell."

"Well, when you get to the good stuff, still don't tell me."

Ron rolled his eyes. "And what would you know about the good stuff anyway?"

Harry laughed. "More than you think."

Ron blanched. "Just what _did_ you do under the mistletoe with Cho?"

* * *

The next couple of weeks were spent de-gnoming the garden and writing last minute summer essays for their classes. Ginny seemed to do nothing but owl her friends. Harry wondered when she had finished all her essays. _If_ she had finished them. Hermione let him copy her History of Magic essay. She knew he would never write it on his own.

One day Mr. and Mrs. Weasley took them to Diagon Alley to buy their books. A couple of Aurors accompanied them. Even though, they managed to escape for a couple of minutes to visit Fred and George's shop to get some free "supplies" for the coming school year. Hermione pretended she didn't see anything.

Sooner than not, Harry found them all running through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. He knew Ron and Hermione had Head Boy and Girl duties with the prefects so he found a compartment to himself and settled down. He let Hedwig out of her cage and she rested on his shoulder. Harry didn't mind being alone on the train ride to Hogwarts. As much as the Burrow was filled with family, Harry felt most at home at the old castle. And he liked going home.

**To Be Continued…**


	4. Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Harry leaned his head back against the seat. He watched as the countryside passed by. He almost dozed off when the door to the compartment opened. Ginny smiled at Harry and popped herself inside.

"Everywhere else is full. You don't mind?"

Harry shook his head. "Won't Dean mind?"

Ginny shrugged. "He said he'd find me later. He's goofing off with Neville and Seamus and a couple of seventh year Ravenclaws. I think they visited Fred and George's shop when they did their school shopping. There's all sorts of illegal things in there that would make Filch and Hermione both scream."

Harry smiled. "Well, I hope Dean doesn't get too pissed at me for sitting in the same compartment as his girl."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Dean had made it clear to the both of them that he didn't like the fact they were friends. Ginny and Harry had grown to become quite good friends since the end of fifth year after the events at the Ministry. Ginny seemed to be the only one who treated him as a normal person after Sirius had died. Dean did not like Harry always running to talk to Ginny whenever something was bothering him. He had Ron and Hermione for that. But, even Ron and Hermione knew that some things Harry just could not tell them for whatever reason. They stopped being offended early on and accepted that Ginny had a way of calming Harry down that they didn't have.

"Think Professor Kimmel will be back again this year?" Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged. "I doubt it. No one seems to take the Dark Arts position more than a year anyway. I didn't like Kimmel anyway. He was too…"

"French?"

Harry nodded. "Definitely. Way too French."

"If Hogwarts isn't careful the only one left who'll want the job will be Snape." Ginny laughed. "Then maybe Potions would be enjoyable after all!"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts is my favorite class. Bugger that if Snape teaches it." Harry sighed. "As much as I'm looking forward to going back to Hogwarts I think I'll be just as glad to leave."

"Won't you just have to go to more school – or more training – if you become an Auror?"

"Look, Gin, a part of me knows that this year is it. It's either the end for me or the end for Voldemort. If I make it to graduation I don't care what comes next. Just as long as I make it."

Harry could never say these things to Hermione or Ron. Ron would just get angry and show off his temper so stereotypical for red heads. Hermione would just try not to cry. Ginny would sit back and listen and offer her opinion to Harry if she thought he would want to hear it.

"I've been giving a lot of thought to being an Auror a lot while I've been at the Burrow…"

"And?" Ginny pressed.

"And I wonder if I shouldn't ask Dumbledore to be the next Defense teacher."

Ginny looked awestruck. Her mouth was a perfect O and she wasn't sure what to say. It took her a moment before she regained herself.

"I think it's perfect, Harry."

"Yeah?"

"You were brilliant with the DA the past two years. But, do you really want to give up being an Auror? I mean, they do really important work."

"After trying to fight Voldemort for the past six years I'm ready to give up on Dark wizards. Let someone else fight. If I make it out alive I think I will have had my fill of fighting the bad guy. I already feel spent."

"I think it's brilliant. Hey, if I'm in your class, do you promise to give me top marks?"

"You might have to bribe me a little bit," Harry teased.

"Will I have to call you Professor Potter?"

"Absolutely."

"Will you give me detention?"

"Of course."

Ginny frowned. "What kind of detention?"

"Depends on what kind of bribes you give me."  
  
Ginny smiled. "I could like you being teacher."

* * *

Hermione looked at Ron in the front compartment. All the prefects – new and old – had gone to do their rounds.

"Where was your sister?"

Ron shrugged. "Ginny never takes this prefect stuff seriously. She'll do her rounds at school, I'm sure. She did last year. Don't get her in too much trouble."

Hermione's frown deepened. "Dumbledore shouldn't have appointed her prefect if she's not going to at least attend the meetings! They're _required_."

"So, go tell her that."

"Me? She's your sister. And you're Head Boy."

"So? She's your friend and you're Head Girl. Calm down. Ginny probably just forgot. Is it really a big deal?"

Hermione nodded. "_Yes_!"

Ron sighed and stretched his arms over his head. He stood up. "_Fine_. I'll go look for her." The train gave a sudden lurch and Ron fell backwards against the compartment seat. He hit his head against the wall. "Bugger that!" he cried out, rubbing the back of his head. "Shit, that hurt." He winced. "I know, I know," he said, seeing Hermione open her mouth, "I shouldn't say 'shit.'"

"Actually," Hermione said matter-of-factly, "I was going to ask if you were all right."

Ron grinned. "I'll be fine." He didn't get up again, though. He continued to rub the back of his head. "Say, Hermione…"

"Yes?"

"When we get back to Hogwarts are you going to let me tell everyone else that I snog you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ron, I don't know what your fascination is with letting the world know we've snogged a few times."

"It's not a fascination."

"Oh? Then, what is it, pray tell?"

"I would have thought it was obvious. Everyone will know you're my girl and then _they_ won't try to snog you."

"Your girl?"

Ron's ears turned red. "Oh, well, uh, yeah. I mean, if you wanted."

"And, no one else is going to try and snog me, for heaven's sake."

"You don't know that. Seamus might."

"Seamus Finnigan? Hardly!"

"You don't know what is said in the boys' dormitories. You don't know _who_ wants to snog you and who doesn't! I hear things, you know. Boys talk, even if you don't think we do."

Hermione considered this, but couldn't imagine any of the other Gryffindors wanting to snog her. Ron seemed to be the only one preoccupied with the notion of snogging her every five minutes. The whole idea of Seamus – or anyone else – wanting to kiss her made Hermione confused. Perhaps the boys had finally gotten the memo that she was a girl after all. Even if she was smarter than the whole lot of them.

"Well, if you're just going to sit there, I'm going to go and find Ginny myself." Hermione got up and opened the compartment door. She was about to close it behind her when she looked at Ron, slouching down in the seat, his Hogwarts robes too short for him. "Oh, and Ron?"

Ron looked up at her, his eyes questioning.

"Being your girl sounds like a lovely idea." She shut the compartment door and went in search for Ginny. Ron just sat in his seat and turned red.

* * *

"I wish I could find a spell, though," Harry said, "that would help me defeat him."

"How do you know there's not one?" Ginny asked.

"I don't. I haven't really looked. Hermione's the one who lives in the library."

"Right. And you're the one who lives in the hospital wing."

"Hey!" But, Harry couldn't help but laugh. He did have a knack for fainting and waking up under the care of Madam Pince.

"I'm just kidding," Ginny said, as she placed a hand on Harry's knee. She quickly removed it and blushed. Harry tried his hardest not to blush and cleared his throat.

"Do you want to help me look?"

"For a spell?"

"Anything that might help. Our wands share a common bond and can't be used against one another. I think the only way to defeat him is something deeper. Old magic maybe. I'm not sure. But, there's a reason why Voldemort can get into my head and I know there _must_ be a book or something somewhere that has the answer. Hogwarts has one of the most extensive libraries anywhere. If the answer isn't there… well, then, I'm not so sure there _is_ an answer."

"I'll help you look. Of course I'll help you look!"

"GINNY!"

Neither of them had heard the compartment door open. Hermione was standing in the doorway, hands on hips.

"Hi, Hermione," Ginny said uneasy.

"You missed the prefect meeting."

Ginny shrugged. "Oh. I forgot."

"You forgot? I reminded you about it before you got onto the train."

"Yeah… I didn't really feel like going. I hope you don't mind. It's not really a big deal is it?"

Hermione didn't quite know what to say. No one had blatantly rejected her authority before. Of course she minded. Of course it was a big deal. You went to prefect meetings before you were suppose to. It wasn't a choice. It was a responsibility. Hermione couldn't understand anyone not wanting to take on responsibility.

"There's a meeting Saturday afternoon. You better be there."

Ginny wasn't given the time to answer before Hermione shut the compartment door and walked away. Ginny looked at Harry and began to laugh. Harry watched her as her lips slid over her teeth as she smiled. She licked her mouth and tried to stop laughing. Harry thought she was adorable.

"I hope Ron starts to rub off on her. He needs to loosen her up." As soon as she said she began to laugh again. "Oh, god, I really didn't mean it like that!"

Harry smiled. He opened his mouth to say something but at the exact same moment the train gave another lurch and Ginny went flying from her seat and crashed into Harry and Hedwig. Hedwig flew up to the luggage rack above their heads and hooted at them, obviously trying to let them know she was annoyed. They didn't notice the snowy owl. Harry took a hold of Ginny's elbows and gently lifted her up from the train floor.

"Are you okay?"

Ginny nodded. "Fine." She sat up on her knees and took in a deep breath. "My heart's racing. I wasn't expecting that."

"Neither was I."

Ginny nodded again. Without saying another word, she pulled Harry's red and gold tie towards her and brought his mouth to hers. Harry, who didn't miss a beat, put his hand underneath her chin and lifted her head up a bit more to give him better access to her mouth. She tasted wonderful. Like peppermint and something else… something he couldn't put his finger on.

Her school shirt wasn't tucked into her gray skirt and Harry pulled it up in the back just enough to rest his hand on the bare skin of her back. Her skin was cool and wonderful. He didn't move his hand away from her back as they both pulled away at the sound of a small explosion from somewhere in the train.

"Exploding snaps," Ginny said.

"Right," Harry replied, staring at her mouth.

Ginny stood up and Harry was forced to drop his hand away from her skin. He swallowed and looked at Ginny's face. They parted at just the right moment. Dean opened the compartment door and smiled at his girlfriend.

"Did you just hear that? Neville caught his school robes on fire." He laughed loudly.

"Again? Poor Neville." Ginny looked at Dean and forced herself to smile at him.

Dean looked at Harry. "Oh, hi, Potter." Dean had given up on calling Harry anything but Potter somewhere in the middle of sixth year. Harry would have minded except he had just snogged Dean's girlfriend. He figured Dean could call him whatever he liked, just as long as he didn't try to punch him or anything.

"Hi, Dean."

"Good summer, then?"

"It was lovely, thanks," Harry said, his voice sounding strained.

Dean took Ginny's hand. "Come on, you have to see Neville. He's a sight!"

"Oh, all right, then." Ginny let Dean lead her out of Harry's compartment. She smiled at Harry as she left and gave him a wink that Harry was sure meant something. But what, he had no idea.

* * *

Harry sat next to Ron during the feast. He watched the Sorting unenthusiastically. He didn't have much use for first years. Unless they were good enough to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Harry didn't figure he'd have much use for them at all.

"I wish they'd bloody hurry up," Ron muttered to Harry as his stomach gave a loud growl. "I missed the foot cart on the train," he grumbled. "Hermione made me do patrols with her. Next time I eat. Nothing is more important than eating."

"Is that so?" Harry arched an eyebrow at Ron.

"Well, for now anyway. Hermione hasn't let me get far enough for anything else to be put up higher than food on my 'things I can't live without' list."

"She's been waiting for you to realize you fancied her for four years or something. I'm sure she has a lot of pent up aggression just itching to get out." Harry immediately began to pile the recently arrived food on his plate. He was starving, too. "Just don't _tell_ me about any of it."

"I know, I know," Ron replied. "Oh, wow, ham! I love ham."

"You love anything that's edible, Ron," Hermione said form across the table as she buttered up a dinner roll. "I don't know how you stay so thin eating as much as you do."

Ron shrugged. "It's in the genes I suppose." He stuffed an entire roll in his mouth.

"Honestly, Ron, I _know_ your mum taught you table manners."

"If you hadn't made me miss the food trolley on the train I wouldn't have to eat like this. But I'm _starved_. Let me eat."

Hermione didn't say anything else, but the look upon her face showed her disapproval of shoving entire dinner rolls in one's mouth. Harry found his two best mates amusing. He was glad that their new relationship wasn't keeping them from bickering every ten minutes – as he had well witnessed for almost three weeks at the Burrow. He stuck his fork in the pile of steamed vegetables on his plate and looked up and caught Ginny's eye. She was watching him from a few seats down from Hermione. She winked at him again before turning her attention back to Dean. Harry had no idea what was going on. He wish he understood girls better. Or, just this girl, really.

"Harry, are you listening?" Hermione asked.

Harry put the forkful of vegetables in his mouth and looked at the bushy haired girl. "Huh?"

"I said, I wonder why Dumbledore didn't announce who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is. Professor Kimmel isn't up there. I assumed he left the school."

"Imagine that," Ron said sarcastically, "another Defense teacher gone. Where do they all _go_ when they leave here?"

Choosing to ignore Ron's question, Harry mused his own thoughts. "Maybe they haven't actually found a teacher. Everyone knows the position is cursed."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's nonsense."

"No, it's not," Ron retorted. "Six teachers in six years. I'd say that's something."

"A teaching position being cursed is about as ridiculous as the whole of Divination."

From next to Hermione Lavender slammed her fork down on the table. "Divination is _not_ ridiculous," she cried. "Professor Trelawney _said_ that you didn't have the inner spirit for Divination. You're too caught up in your books and literal things to notice anything beyond that."

"Divination is a load of bullocks."

"It is not!" Lavender cried.

Hermione was slowly growing more and more annoyed at the blonde girl. "Yes it is. Tell me, when was the last time you saw something in one of Trelawney's crystal balls that came true. Or, better yet! When was the last time you had a vision? Tell me, Lavender, made any prophecies lately?"

"Only that you're a up-tight bitch," Lavender shot back. She smiled sweetly.

"Hey!" Ron said. "Don't–"

But, Seamus, who was sitting on the other side of Harry, interrupted Ron. "Don't listen to her, 'Mione."

Ron felt the back of his neck grow hot at the sound of Seamus calling Hermione by any sort of nickname. How dare he!

"I think Divination is a load of bullocks myself." Seamus flashed her a smile.

Remembering what Ron had said earlier on the train about Seamus wanting to snog her, Hermione chose to ignore Seamus' comments. She went back to concentrating on her dinner.

"Oh, don't hand me that, Seamus," Lavender said. "When you were going out with me you thought anything I liked was great. You even told me Trelawney was brilliant."

"I did no such thing."

Lavender rolled her eyes. "Yes you did." She turned to Hermione. "Don't let him sweet talk you. His only interest is sex and once you give in he doesn't want to do anything else." She lowered her voice a notch. "And believe me, it's like having Flitwick's wand inside of you and even then it's over in less than two minutes."

Harry and Ron both choked on their food. Hermione looked up at the teacher's table at the little dwarf of a teacher they all had for Charms. His wand was barely four inches long. She looked at Ron and Harry who were both turning red from withholding laughter.

"Well, Lavender wouldn't know good sex if it went down on her for an hour."

Hermione shifted in her seat. She was turning red herself, but not from held in laughter but embarrassment.

"There's first years at the table," she whispered harshly at Lavender and Seamus. They chose not to listen.

"I wouldn't know good sex?" Lavender laughed. "I seem to remember coming multiple times when I was with George after we broke up. That was pretty good sex to me."

This time Ron did choke. He coughed loudly before being able to gather himself up and look at Lavender in shock. Harry seemed to be just as shocked. Hermione looked incensed.

"George Weasley?" Harry asked, as it seemed Ron was unable to speak.

Lavender looked at Harry and nodded. "Yeah, after he and Alicia broke up and before they got back together."

Harry looked at Ron. "Well, how about that!" He laughed and helped himself to another dinner roll. "I'm learning all kinds of new stuff this year and classes haven't even begun!"

"You slept with my brother?" Ron inquired slowly, having recovered enough from his shock to speak once more.

"Yes. So what? It's no big deal."

"Oh, well, of course not," Ron muttered.

Lavender glanced down at Ron. "Are you and your brother anything alike?"

Ron's face grew hot and he knew he must resemble a very ripe tomato.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly. "Okay, I am _ending_ this conversation now! There are _first years_ at this table! Leave the sex talk to the bedroom, shall we?"

Lavender frowned at her. She flipped her brown hair over her shoulder. "Whatever." She smiled at Ron. "Do I get to find out?" she asked Ron.

"No," Hermione answered for him.

"Oh, does she do your biding, too?" Lavender asked, slightly disgusted.

"No," Ron answered, "she doesn't. But, seeing as she's _my _girl she's going to be the only one finding out if I'm anything like my brother. _And further more_," Ron added, looking at Seamus, "the only one she's going to be snogging this year is me."

Seamus rolled his eyes and looked at his ham, grumbling something under his breath that none of them could make out.

"Ohh!" Lavender squealed. "Are you guys really going out? That's so cute! I was wondering when you'd finally admit you fancied each other." She giggled. She looked at Harry. She narrowed her eyes seductively. "You spend a lot of time with Ron's family. Are _you_ anything like Ron's brother?" She smiled slowly.

Harry gave out a short laugh. "Hate to disappoint you, Lavender, but I'm not that easy."

Lavender shrugged and turned to Parvati on her other side and whispered something to her. Harry looked at Ron in disbelief.

"Is it all blondes that are that easy, or is it just Lavender?" Harry asked Ron.

"It's just Lavender," Seamus said from Harry's other side. "Believe me." He looked at Hermione. "And what she said isn't true. If it's like anybody's wand, it's like Professor Sinistra's. Just, in case, you know, you and Ron ever break up. Just a thought, Hermione."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked up at the teacher's table. Their Astronomy teacher's wand sat beside him, nearly twelve inches in length.

Harry raised his goblet of pumpkin juice. "Cheers." He took a sip and laughed. What a start to their last year at Hogwarts.

* * *

Back in the common room, Harry sat by the fire, flipping through his Defense Against the Dark Arts book. It was the only subject he was eager to get a jump-start on for the school year. Hermione had retreated earlier to her Head Girl's room – where that was, nobody knew. Ron was playing chess with Neville who kept insisting he could beat him if just given one more chance. No one else was in the common room. Harry suspected they were roaming around the hallways, enjoying the last bits of freedom before homework and essays began to weigh them down.

Ginny flopped down on the couch next to Harry.

"Hiya," she said.

Harry looked up at her from over top his book. "Hi."

"Enjoy the feast?"

"It was very educational."

Ginny was about to ask him what he meant when Neville shouted out.

"I won! I won!"

Ron looked disgruntled. "It's only because I'm tired. I can't see straight. I'm going to bed. I'd tell you I'd see you upstairs, but I have my own room now!" Ron laughed to himself. "See you at breakfast."

Neville looked at Harry and Ginny and shrugged. He left the chessboard on the table and retreated up the stairs to the boys' dormitories with a casual "g'night."

Harry's eyes went back to his book.

"Aren't you curious to know why?" Ginny asked.

"To know why what?"

"Why I kissed you."

Harry shrugged. "Oh, I dunno." He didn't look up from his book. It was a trick he learned from Hermione. It drove other people mad, as it obviously was Ginny.

Ginny pulled the book away from Harry. "I know you want to know why."

Harry sighed. He nodded. "I do."

"It's because I like you. Ever since you came back to the Burrow this summer."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Don't you fancy me?"

Harry didn't answer.

"Harry?"

He sighed again, this time more loudly. "You know I do. I think you're bloody brilliant. But, you're going out with Dean. I don't have much use for girls who are going to cheat on their boyfriends."

Ginny made a face. "I know. But, you were so close and your lips are so nice. I was going to break up with him after the feast but he and Seamus disappeared off somewhere. I'm not sure where."

"Maybe to go snog each other."

Ginny laughed. "I doubt that."

Harry shrugged. "So, what if I had said I didn't fancy you. Would you still break up with Dean?"

Ginny nodded sadly. "I can't be with one boy and like another. I don't think that's very fair. But, I also wasn't going to owl him over the summer and break it off. I don't think that would be very nice. Especially since we're in the same house. And he was always with his friends on the train. After the feast seemed like a good enough time."

"But he disappeared with Seamus."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah. I promise I don't do this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?"

"Snogging another boy behind my boyfriend's back."

"You were pretty good at it."

"I've had some practice."

Harry smiled. "So have I."

He closed the distance between them and kissed her like they kissed on the train. His hands found their way under her shirt to the bare skin of her back. He felt her pushing him back on the couch, her hands running up and down his bare arms, squeezing what small biceps he did indeed have. But, his bliss was short lived, as Harry felt eyes on them. He broke away from Ginny and looked up behind her.

_Shit_! he thought to himself. Harry wet his lips and pushed Ginny gently off him. He sat up quickly.

"Hi, Dean," Harry said. He looked behind the black haired boy and saw brown-headed Seamus looking quite shocked. "Hi, Seamus."

Ginny blushed. "Dean…" she began.

"I don't want to hear it," Dean snapped at her, but he was staring at Harry. He crossed the room and his fist connected with Harry's face.

Ginny cried out. "Stop!"

It would have seemed that Dean only planned to hit Harry once and he shrugged away from Ginny's grasp and looked at her, thoroughly disgusted.

"I think that means our relationship if officially over." To Harry he said, "I'll see you in the dormitory."

* * *

To Be Continued… 

A/N: I hope everyone's enjoying it. Reviews will help inspire me to write more as I have loads more to say about the trio!


	5. Chapter Five

**A/N: I know, I know, I accidentally wrote in Chapter Four that Madam Pince worked in the hospital wing when I very well know Madam Pomfrey works in the hospital wing and Madam Pince is the librarian. I wrote the last chapter at four in the morning. But, thanks for reading anyway! :) Now, on to the story!**

CHAPTER FIVE

Ginny winced as she looked at Harry. "I'm so sorry Dean did that! You stay here, I'll be right back." She dashed up the boys' dormitory stairs. Harry assumed she was going to tell off Dean. He didn't think it would be such a good idea, but he stayed on the couch in front of the fireplace, holding the side of his head. Ginny seemed to have disappeared for almost half an hour before she returned. She sat back down next to Harry and removed his hand from his head.

"That's going to bruise," she told him.

"I had no doubts."

"Dean said he wouldn't tell Ron."

At this Harry looked at Ginny, surprise in his eyes.

"He reckons you don't need your head punched in twice. He said he'd make sure Seamus doesn't say anything either."

"Huh. Imagine that."

"But," Ginny continued, "he also said he might let it slip out if you ever piss him off."

"Ron'll eventually find out I snogged his sister, won't he?"

"Not if we don't tell him."

"Oh, and you want to keep this all secret?"

"I don't fancy telling Ron, no. He's a big guy. I'm afraid he might swing too hard and kill you."

"Oh, thanks for the extra confidence, Gin."

"Sorry."

Harry leaned back against the couch. He was slouched; his tie so lose around his neck it was barely tied. The buttons of his shirt were mostly unbuttoned, revealing a white undershirt. He had kicked off his shoes sometime before and had been walking around the common room for the past two hours in his bare feet. Ginny looked much the same, her uniform shirt unbuttoned, a white undershirt beneath it. She had kept her shoes and knee socks on, though.

Harry vaguely wondered why Dumbledore would make her a prefect. She never tucked in her uniform shirt and sometimes would go a week without wearing her Gryffindor tie. She obviously didn't go to prefect meetings, although, Harry did have to admit, he saw her doing her rounds at night last year. She was rather like the twins, though. She liked being mischievous and sometimes she'd go off for hours at a time and no one would know where she was. It wasn't like her first year, though. When she went off it was for a purpose – such as visiting the kitchens. She was nothing like Hermione, prefect extraordinaire.

"It doesn't hurt too terribly, does it?"

"Not anymore. But, I saw stars. Dean hits hard."

Ginny pulled her legs up underneath her on the couch. She played with Harry's unruly hair. "I don't suppose you and Dean'll be very good friends this year."

"No, I don't think we will be either. What did you tell him to convince him not to say anything to Ron?"

"I begged him." Ginny laughed. "And I told him it wasn't your fault. If he was to be angry with anyone it should rightly be me. He was pretty understanding."

"Really?"

"I told him that I hadn't seen him all summer and a lot can happen in two months."

"I was only in the Burrow for three weeks."

"He doesn't have to know that. He'll be fine. I heard Lavender talking earlier about it being a shame Dean was taken. Maybe now she'll give him a whirl."

"Lavender's given every bloke a whirl."

"Has she given you a whirl?" Ginny inquired, a grin tugging on the corners of her mouth.

"Nope! I told her I wasn't that easy. Apparently she's had a go with one of your brothers."

"Oh, I know."

"You know? How? Ron didn't know."

"Ron's a bit thick, isn't he?" Ginny shrugged. "Besides, Fred and George's girlfriends like me. They talk to me. Alicia told me. She wasn't bothered too much by it. She has a few skeletons in the closet that she doesn't want George finding out about so she doesn't bring up Lavender ever."

"What skeletons could Alicia Spinnet possibly have?"

"Oliver."

"Oliver Wood?"

Ginny nodded.

"Bloody hell! Really? How 'bout that. Does everyone sleep with everyone else in this school?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't. Is it really all that surprising, though? People have sex outside of Hogwarts, too, you know."

"I know… No, I know. But, Lavender and George?"

"It was only once. He tried to keep it a secret. I don't think Fred even knows. But Fred doesn't really pay much attention to anything other than the shop and Angelina. They've been together ever since their sixth year. Not that there's ever been anyone else for either of them. They remind me of Hermione and Ron, actually."

"What, always bickering like an old married couple?"

Ginny nodded. She twirled Harry's hair around her finger. "You know, we won't be able to stay up until two in the morning every night to snog once classes start."

"I know."

"But I'm sure we'll be able to figure something out."

Harry smiled. "Oh, that I definitely know, too." He tugged at Ginny and brought her to him, kissing her again.

* * *

Ron heard a knock at his door. "Hold on!" he called out, searching desperately for a pair of pants. It was hot inside his room and he was about to fall into bed wearing a pair of boxers. He found a pair of jeans inside his trunk and pulled them on, hurriedly zipping them up.

Opening the door, Ron saw Hermione standing on the other side.

"Hi," he said. "Something wrong?"

"Couldn't sleep. I didn't figure you were either." She stopped and looked at him. "Don't you ever wear a shirt?"

Ron felt oddly naked under her gaze. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I was just changing," he replied.

"Well, I was just wondering what your room looked like." Hermione looked past Ron. His room was small, no bigger than hers. It had a large bed in it, much larger than the old ones he was used to in the dormitories. This one he could actually lay down in without his feet falling over the end of it. He had a desk, a dresser, and a chest of drawers. No closet, but he did have his own bathroom. Small – just a toilet and a shower and a sink. But, Ron was thrilled. It was more than he had back at the Burrow. Now he didn't have to time his showers to five minutes so someone else in line could use it.

"Just like mine," Hermione said. "It's just right there, you know."

Ron poked his head out of his room and looked to where Hermione was pointing. There was a door ten feet away from his.

"Our rooms our where the stairs to the girls and the boys dormitories meet at the top."

"But, where do the wards for the girls' dorms end?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know but I'm sure you wouldn't be allowed in my room."

"Doesn't seem fair. I bet you can still come into mine."

Hermione crossed the threshold to Ron's room. No alarms. She smiled. "Apparently so."

Ron was suddenly aware that he wasn't wearing a shirt and that his girlfriend was standing in his room alone. He wanted to snog her again. He started to reach for her but the look on her face made him stop.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, looking downcast, "I kept thinking about Lavender at dinner tonight."

"What about her?"

"Well, when she asked if you were anything like George, you know she was offering you sex."

"I'm not _that_ thick," Ron said, somewhat angrily.

"I know. Well, and I came to apologize."

"Apologize for what?" Ron felt confused. He definitely didn't understand girls. Trying to get an O in Potions seemed to be less work than trying to figure out what all went on in Hermione's head.

"For making you wait. It's something I have to do. And well, you see…" Hermione began to blush. "Well, you see, you're the only boy I've ever even kissed. I don't know how to do things. I know I would make a fool of myself if I jumped into anything too soon. And besides, it's all very scary this physical stuff and I don't know when I'll _ever_ be ready so I'd understand if you'd rather go off with someone like Lavender – I know how boys think. You'll be ready ages before I ever will and—"

"Hermione, stop! My brain can't process everything you're saying. I don't want to go off with Lavender."

"But I feel a bit guilty making you wait."

"Did it ever occur to you that perhaps I don't _want_ to have sex?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

Ron groaned. "Well, of course I do, but Hermione, you're the only girl _I've_ ever kissed. I might get randy sometimes"—Hermione laughed—"okay, a _lot_ of times, but I'd kind of like to be like my parents. They got together when they were in Gryffindor and they've never been with anyone else. They fight like mad but they're happy. I think there's something nice about that. Lavender will give it up to anyone. She's as randy as any boy and twice as aggressive. I don't want to sleep with her."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. For being as clever as you are, you don't always get it. There's a lot about you I don't know or understand, but I know enough about you to know you're not going to go fast. Why would I want you to be my girl if I knew that already?"

"I guess you're not as thick I think you are sometimes."

Ron shrugged. "I guess not."

"Well, I'm glad we had this little talk. Good night." Hermione made her way to leave but Ron grabbed a hold of her arm.

"You're not leaving _that_ fast," he said. He bent down and kissed her. He felt her arms go around his neck and her tongue go into his mouth.

* * *

The day started out with Double Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry wasn't sure how this was going to happen, seeing as no new teacher had been announced and Professor Kimmel was nowhere to be seen.

"Who cares?" Ron said rather irritably at breakfast.

"What's with you this morning?"

"I didn't sleep much," Ron replied, glancing at Hermione.

Harry looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione. They were both a bit red in the face. "I don't want to know," Harry said, putting a strip of bacon in his mouth. Ginny placed her hand on his leg and gave it a little reassuring squeeze. Harry reached down with his own hand and placed it over hers, entwining their fingers underneath the table. He was grateful Ron was on the other side and couldn't see.

They had already been through the long story about how Harry got his black eye. "I was running up the stairs and one of the second years was swinging a broom around and caught me right in the face," Harry had said. Ron bought the story even if Hermione seemed a bit skeptical. Whether or not she believed him, she kept her mouth shut.

Dean had made a point to sit as far away from Harry and Ginny as possible. Last night he was bent over his desk when Harry finally made it up to the dormitory. He didn't look up as Harry entered the room nor did he acknowledge the boy's presence since then. Harry couldn't blame him. He had stolen the guy's girlfriend after all.

"I wonder when Quidditch starts again," Ron mused. "We need a new Chaser now that Katie's gone."

Harry nodded. "I suppose we do."

"Better be a good one. I don't fancy the idea of not winning the Cup again this year."

"You're a regular Quidditch champion, Ron," Harry said rather dryly.

"I think Quidditch is important! I know you do, too!"

"I know," Harry agreed. "I just don't fancy having to appoint a new Chaser. Especially if they end up being as bad as you were when you first starting player as Keeper."

Ron blushed. "Well, I'm better now."

"You're a thousand times better, mate! But, with all the pressure of NEWTs and Voldemort I don't want any more put on me by having to deal with a poor Chaser."

"Why would you have to deal with it?" Hermione asked.

"Coz I'm captain," Harry answered.

Ron and Ginny were both silent for a moment. Then, Ginny squealed like a girl and Ron gave Harry a strong pat on the shoulder from across the table.

"Well done, mate! McGonagall made a good choice appointing you."

"It's not all that surprising," Ginny said, "considering you've been on the team longer than anyone else has. Plus, you're the best seeker. You've got the Firebolt to help you out!"

"And some good Chasers," Harry said, looking at her.

Had her brother been somewhere else Ginny would have kissed him. He was always so cute when he tried to compliment her.

"I need to go and grab my books before class. I'll see you lot at lunch." Ginny got up from the table and walked out of the Great Hall.

Ron looked at Harry. He leaned over the table and asked in a hushed voice, "do you know why she isn't sitting with Dean?"

Harry shrugged.

"She talks to you, mate, did they break up?"

Harry looked at Ron's eager face and nodded. "Yeah. Last night. Ginny did the breaking, I think. Although, I wouldn't mention it to Dean. He was pretty upset last night."

"He was a prat anyway. Ginny can do a lot better."

"Oh?" Hermione asked, amused. "Like who?"

Ron shrugged, clearly not wanting to answer the question. "I'm full. Let's go to class."

"You want to go to class early? Wow, Hermione must be some influence on you if you're wanting to get to class early."

"Sod off, all right? I just wanted to see who the new Defense professor is."

Ron stood up from the table and grabbed his books from the ground beside his feet. Hermione and Harry moved to do the same and the three of them walked out of the Great Hall.

"Why if it isn't Potty, the Weasel and the Mudblood," a voice from behind them said.

The trio turned around and looked at Draco Malfoy and his two wanna-be clones, Crabbe and Goyle. Harry's good mood felt suddenly drained. The last thing he wanted to deal with this morning was Malfoy and his posse.

"Watch your mouth, Malfoy," Harry warned. "I'm in no mood to listen to your drabble this morning."

"My drabble? So, Granger, I hear you're Weasel's girlfriend now. You actually like dating a boy whose family all lives in one room? That's a nice robe you've got there, Weasel. I didn't know they made them that short and that gray."

Ron glanced down at his robes. He outgrew them back in fourth year. They were terribly worn and hardly even black anymore they had been washed so many times. Ron usually felt pretty good about himself until someone like Malfoy came along to remind him just how poor he really was.

"I may be poor, Malfoy," Ron said, "but at least my father's not in jail and my mother's not in St. Mungo's crazy ward."

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. At the end of sixth year Cornelius Fudge had gotten enough evidence together to imprison several Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy was one of them. Narcissa Malfoy had been tortured by other Death Eaters until she was permanently brain damaged. She was worse than even the Longbottoms, if that was even possible.

Malfoy went to lunge towards Ron but he stopped in mid leap, falling to the floor. Harry and Ron looked at Malfoy who was face down on the stone floor. They were both fairly confused.

"Total body bind," Hermione said. "Honestly, boys, we learned it first year." She looked at Crabbe and Goyle. She pointed her wand at them. "If either of you have any bright ideas to unbind him or tell Snape on us you better reconsider. I _am_ Head Girl after all and have no problems giving you detention for a month if I catch you doing _anything_ out of line. You got that?" To Harry and Ron she simply said, "let's get to class."

"I hope I never piss her off," Harry whispered to Ron. "I'm scared she might hex me, too."

* * *

After Defense Against the Dark Arts they had Herbology and then lunch. After that, there was Double Advanced Potions and Transfiguration. The day seemed long and somehow Harry had managed to get extra homework in McGonagall's class as well as an extra six inches added on to his Potions essay because his Paralysis Draught wasn't bubbly enough. Professor Sprout didn't often assign essays, although she had to take ten points from Gryffindor for Harry's lack of knowledge about the Blood Rose.

The only good thing about the entire day was the new – or returning, rather – Defense professor. Fudge didn't argue this year when Dumbledore reappointed Remus Lupin. Truth be told, it was because Dumbledore wanted every Order member available to watch over Harry. Lupin had been an extremely popular teacher the first time he was there and he seemed to be the most qualified candidate for the job.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were terribly excited to see him.

"I've only just arrived this morning. I couldn't get away until very late last night."

"Are any other Order members going to be here?" Ron asked.

Hermione shushed him. The Order was still top secret and no one was to know who was and was not a member.

"Oh, well, you might see Tonks from time to time. She always likes to pop in and see how things are going. Dumbledore already invited her here ahead of time knowing she would show up anyway."

Harry wasn't sure but he thought he detected a slight blush rush across Lupin's face.

"Anyway, we can all talk later, I need to get class started. Come by my office any time for a chat. I daresay it might get kind of lonely up here in this drafty old castle."

After dinner, Harry made his way up the moving staircases to the common room. He felt tired but he knew McGonagall was going to call on him to transfigure an ordinary feather into a chair since he wasn't able to do it in class today. He needed to practice but he couldn't find Hermione in the common room to get her help.

"I can't find Hermione," Harry said, slouching down on the couch.

"I don't know where she is either," Ginny told him truthfully.

"I need her help with Transfiguration. I wasn't really paying attention to McGonagall in class and she assigned me extra homework because I couldn't conjure up a chair. The feather just sort of laid there and shook a bit."

"I wish I could help you but that's a bit advanced for me."

Harry shrugged. "It's all right. I suppose I could start my Potions essay. It's not due for another week, though. If I wait long enough Hermione might let me copy hers."

"Do you want to go to the library, then? I can spare you some time before bed."

"Oh, to look up some spells?"

"I was thinking just looking in any book that had any mention of Old Magic. The whole thing with your mother sacrificing herself and the love of that being in your skin… and you being safe in your aunt's house… and the scar… well, I rather think that sort of magic hasn't been seen for centuries. It would be why Dumbledore can't explain everything."

Harry nodded. "Sure, let's go."

They made their way to the library. Harry had to resist the urge to take hold of her hand as they walked down the corridors. The library was vacant of other students. They choose a table in the back and Ginny went to grab a handful of books from one of the stacks. She put the books down and sat next to Harry. He moved his chair closer to her, close enough their legs brushed against one another.

They read about old curses and hexes long forgotten. About wizards and witches not taught in History of Magic classes. About love potions and Death Draughts no longer used. Nothing about scars or killing Dark Wizards. Harry slammed his second book shut.

"Nothing in that book either. I don't know how much I can stand not finding anything. I want to know how to kill him and have it be done with. And I have no idea how to do it."

"We'll find something. We've only looked through a couple of books."

"How long have we been here?"

"Almost two hours."

Harry groaned. "We haven't found anything. Let's call it a night. I'm tired."

"It's not even curfew yet!" Ginny exclaimed with a smile on her face.

"Yes, but as I remember last night I was up late getting punched in the face and snogging my best mate's sister…"

Ginny giggled. "Yeah, that's true. I'll put these books up and then we can go."

When she reappeared at the table Harry stood up and walked out of the library with her. They walked down the corridors back towards Gryffindor. Ginny stopped before they got to the portrait of the fat lady.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked her.

"Nothing." Ginny pulled him behind a suit of armor to the enclave behind it. Perfectly hidden from anyone walking down the corridors. She smiled up at Harry. She put her arms around his waist. "I fancied a kiss."

"Did you?"

Ginny nodded. She waited anxiously for Harry to bend his head down and kiss her. He did so, cupping her face in his hands, and pushing her up against the wall. She wrapped one of her legs around him, drawing him closer to her. He took his hands away from her face and began to unbutton her school shirt. He pushed the opened shirt away from her shoulders and found that she wasn't wearing her usual undershirt today. He placed his hands on her hips, running his fingers up and down her sides and across her flat stomach.

Ginny felt a shiver go down her spine. A good shiver. A Harry-Potter-is-Going-to-Feel-Me-Up Shiver. He traced the undersides of her breasts with his thumbs. He cupped one of her breasts in his hands while his other hand went back to running up and down the side of her abdomen.

Harry's mouth went from her lips to her neck where he sucked at the sensitive skin there. A shiver went down Harry's own spine. He swallowed and pulled away from Ginny. He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. He breathed in her scent. He tugged on one of the wisps of hair that refused to stay back in her red ponytail. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"As much as I want to continue this," he said, "this isn't the place. Not so close to the corridors where I can hear people passing by."

Ginny nodded. "I agree."

Harry glanced down at her breasts before pulling away from her. "My god, you are bloody beautiful."

Ginny rolled her eyes but she turned a bit read nonetheless. She began to button up her shirt. "Well, I think you're a bloody brilliant kisser. Who taught you all that? The hands, the neck…"

Harry shrugged.

"I don't remember you seeing anyone last year."

"I didn't."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "So, what exactly _did_ happen with Cho and that mistletoe fifth year, then?"

* * *

Harry went through the portrait hole first. The common room was half full of students. Ron and Hermione were sitting awfully close together on the couch in front of the fireplace. As much as Harry loved his friends, he wasn't in the mood to deal with another couple. He said good night to them and walked up to the seventh year room.

Ginny walked in ten minutes later. She smiled at her brother but made her way up to the girls' dormitories. It was just as well; Ron was perfectly content watching Hermione read her Ancient Runes book while he ran his fingers through her hair. Hermione hadn't let him kiss her once all day long. It was driving him mad.

"Thirty minutes until curfew," Hermione said. "It's time for me to do my rounds."

Ron groaned. He didn't like the idea of walking the castle, telling students to get back to their common rooms as it was almost curfew hour. He liked the idea less of Hermione doing her rounds by herself – especially with prats like Malfoy roaming about.

"I'll come with you," Ron offered.

Hermione placed a bookmark in her book and stuffed the book into her bag. "Really?"

Ron nodded. "Sure. Of course."

She smiled and nodded. "Okay. Just let me go put my bag in my room. I'll be right back."

Ron waited for her by the portrait hole. Seamus almost bumped into him climbing into the common room. He seemed rather nervous.

"Oh, uh, hi, Ron."

"Hi, Seamus."

"Lovely night." Seamus flashed him an uneasy smile and walked over to sit down by the fireplace. He seemed flushed and out of breath.

"You all right, there, Seamus?"

"Oh, you know. I'm fine."

"Uh huh."

Ron had to move out of the way for Lavender who was now coming into the common room. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail. She smiled up at Ron, her eyes falling towards his belt. Ron cleared his throat and her eyes returned to his face.

"Well, I'm knackered. See you tomorrow in Divination, Ron." She walked straight to the girls' dormitory steps and disappeared from view.

Seamus fell over on the couch and let out a large breath. "Fuckin' hell. That girl's going to be the death of me, I swear it."

"I thought you two were broken up."

Seamus nodded. "We are, we are. But, when you need a shag, you need a shag. And that girl's the bloody best." Seamus wiped the sweat from his temples. He sat back up and stretched. "I haven't been this sore in a while." Seamus looked at Ron. "What?"

Ron averted his eyes. "Nothin'."

Hermione came back down the stairs. She had left her bag in her room. Ron thought she looked brilliant in her Hogwarts uniform – her shirt still tucked in perfectly and her tie still tight around her neck. She was so set on being perfect and Ron found it endearing.

"Get some sleep, Seamus," Ron called out to his fellow Gryffindor as he and Hermione left the common room.

They walked down the corridors in silence. The hallways seemed to be deserted. Everything was quiet. Hermione's eyes were dancing all over the place – looking at tapestries for movement behind them, watching doors for blue glows that would suggest a silencing or Colloportus spell had been cast on it, making sure no one was breaking the rules. Had she not been Ron's girl he might have hated her for looking out for people to get in trouble. He reached out and took her hand in his and held it as they continued their walk down the corridors. She didn't say anything, but he saw the twitch of a smile against her lips.

"Seems like a pretty slow night for rule breakers," Ron said.

The rounds ended without much incident. They had to show a couple of first year Slytherins how to get to the dungeons so they could go to their dormitories but everything was quiet other than that. When the couple returned back to their own common room they found it full of students – most of whom were playing chess or Wizard's Poker.

"I'm going to bed. Writing that Potions essay was hard. Snape never likes it when I write more than he asked for but I couldn't keep my essay under two feet."

"Snape only asked for eighteen inches!"

Hermione nodded. "I know."

Ron looked at her in disbelief. He hadn't given a single thought to starting his essay and probably wouldn't until the weekend. "I'd walk you to your room but I can't go up that way."

Hermione smiled. "That's all right. I can say good night here. So, good night, then." She took her hand away from Ron and began to walk up the staircase.

Ron reached out and put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Wait. Can't I get a kiss good night? I haven't kissed you all day." He put on his best pout face for her.

"There's people in the common room, Ron. Anybody could see. Now, I'll see you at breakfast." She walked up the stairs towards her room. Seeing Seamus sitting at a table with a book and parchment out in front of him Ron couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy that the boy was able to shag a girl for shag's sake when his own girl wouldn't even kiss him good night.

Ron found his Defense Against the Dark Arts book where he left it on the couch and settled down to read it. He rather liked Lupin and figured it might be the only class he'd feel guilty about not studying for. Lupin was part of the Order and if Ron had anything to do with it, he would be a part of it, too. The Order members had to stick together, Ron thought, in times like these. For who knew where Voldemort roamed?

As Ron made it up the stairs almost an hour later, he bumped into Harry coming from the loo. His eyes looked bloodshot and glassy from tears and the scar on his forehead looked red and painful to the touch.

"Jesus, Harry, the fuck happened?"

Harry gulped and winched as his scar began to hurt again. He pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead. Between gasps, Harry managed to gasp out, "I just had a vision, Ron."

**To Be Continued…**


	6. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

"Do you need to see Dumbledore?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "No."

"Aren't you still taking Occlumency?" When Harry didn't answer, Ron asked again. "Well, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, I _had_ been…"

"Had?"

"We stopped at the end of last term. I didn't really practice too much over the summer, though."

"Don't tell Hermione that."

"Yeah, I don't fancy her yelling at me." Harry rubbed his forehead.

"What was the vision?"

"It was probably just Voldemort trying to mess with my head again. It was nothing. I'll see you at breakfast."

Harry walked past Ron and went into the seventh room dormitory. Ron stared at Harry's back walking away for a moment before going back to his own room. He undressed and crawled into bed. He stared up at the ceiling, hands behind his head. He turned off the lights with a flick of his wand before lying down but even with the room dark and quiet he knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep.

Harry had a vision. Hermione wasn't kissing him. It was a lot for his brain to think about. His mind kept creeping back to the second thought though. He didn't have any more experience with girls than Hermione had with boys, but he didn't mind kissing her in public – or he wouldn't mind if she let him. Ron wanted to kiss and hold her all the time but it would seem as if she was perfectly happy keeping her distance. She had said she was nervous about the physical stuff, but did that mean she had to slink away even when they were alone?

She did it at the Burrow. She wouldn't sit too close to him on the couch or anything of the like. It was driving Ron mad! He saw the way other girlfriends would run and hug their boyfriends after classes or meals. He wanted Hermione to be that enthused about seeing him.

Realizing he wasn't going to be sleeping Ron decided to go ahead and take a shower and take care of himself where everything could be washed down the drain.

* * *

The next morning Harry waited for Ginny to come down the stairs before breakfast. He wanted in the common room anxiously. Hermione was the first girl down. She looked at him and told him to tuck in his shirt. He complied only so that she would go off to breakfast and let him talk to Ginny alone. Dean came down from the boys' side but he made it a point to ignore Harry. Seamus was right behind him and nodded his good morning.

Ginny finally came down the stairs and Harry jumped up from the couch. She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

"Can it wait until after breakfast?"

Harry shook his head. "This is _really_ important."

"Okay."

"I doubt anyone will be in the library this early. Let's go there."

Ginny followed him out of the portrait hole and through the corridors to the library. They sat in very back at the table they had been at the night before. Harry turned his chair so he was facing Ginny. He leaned his elbows on his knees.

"I was taking Occlumency until the very end of last term. Over the summer I was suppose to practice – clear my mind, the whole bit. But, I, uh, sort of lost track of things and didn't practice. Last night I had a vision."

"You saw what Voldemort was doing?"

Harry shook his head. "No, this wasn't what Voldemort was doing and it wasn't what he was feeling. I think… I think I had a real vision."

"Like a Seer?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno."

"Well, what was the vision?"

"That's the other thing." Harry sat back in the chair. "The vision was of us – you and me. We were at the Burrow. I think it was over Christmas break or something. We were…" Harry found the words difficult to say aloud. "Well, we were sleeping. Somehow Voldemort broke through the wards around your house and took you. He said that I could either choose to have him take you or he would take me. Either way one of us was going to die. I pointed my wand at him and then… well, and then I found myself in the shower where I had been before the vision."

"You were just taking a shower when you had the vision?"

Harry nodded. "I was washing my hair. It takes a lot of shampoo, you know, to get it to look this good every day."

Ginny's eyes glanced up at the black hair that clearly looked as if Harry had just stepped in from a windstorm outside. She smiled at him.

"Well, we just won't go to the Burrow over Christmas break. We'll stay here. And meanwhile we'll look through more books to try and find the answer. Maybe it was another fake vision like the one you had –" Ginny immediately stopped talking.

"Like the one I had about Sirius. That's yet another thing. I don't know. I don't know if Voldemort is trying to lure me to stay at Hogwarts or lure me to the Burrow. I don't even know if he sent the vision or if it's real. All I know is that I don't want him to take you, Gin. And I don't want to have to exchange myself for you because then I would die and Voldemort wouldn't have anyone to stop him. He'd kill you next. Either way you'd die. The whole vision kept me up all last night. I couldn't sleep."

"So, don't give yourself up for me," Ginny said simply.

"But, I'd have to."

"Why?"

"If he took you, what would I have to live for?"

* * *

There was fifteen minutes left of breakfast when Harry and Ginny finally appeared. One quick glance at Hermione told Harry that Ron had kept his mouth shut about the vision. One quick glance at Ron told Harry that Ron wanted to tell her.

"Where have you two been?" Ron asked.

"Library," Ginny answered.

"Why?"

"We had to look up some stuff," Harry replied. "Pass the marmalade, will you?"

Ron handed Harry the dish. He glanced at his sister. "Blimey, Ginny, who bit your neck?"

Ginny looked at her brother. Her hand instinctively went to the left side of her neck where Harry had lightly sucked the skin there. He had obviously sucked hard enough to bruise her. Refusing to look at Harry, Ginny shrugged.

"I don't know," she said. "I think it was a bug or something. No one's been giving me hickeys."

"So, Double Divination this morning. I wonder when I'm going to die this year," Harry mused, desperately hoping to change the subject.

"Oh, what rubbish," Hermione said. "I cannot stand that woman. We all know she's never read anything substantial in those bloody tea leaves of hers."

"So, who's teaching today anyway? Trelawney or Firenze?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "No idea. Do you want your bacon?"

Hermione handed Harry the last strip of bacon from her plate. "I don't know why you two keep taking that class. You never study for it and you always make up your homework."

"Fred said she made them keep dream journals and then interpret them," Ron said.

"We did that in—"

"No," Ron interrupted. "_Day_ dream journals. Trelawney said dreams during the day are just as important as dreams at night. They mean things."

Harry chewed on his bacon. "Day dreams?"

Ron nodded. "Yup."

"That shouldn't be too hard then," Hermione said. "At least you're awake and can remember them. You won't have to make them up."

Ron looked at his girlfriend with amusement on his face. "I don't know what _you_ day dream about, but I don't fancy writing the things I think about down on paper."

"Me neither," Harry seconded.

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

Seamus, turning away from his conversation with Lavender, said, "because all they day dream about is sex."

"Just because that's all _you_ day dream about doesn't mean that's all _they_ day dream about," Hermione said.

"That's really not too far off," Harry said. "Perhaps not _sex_ but girls." He looked off into space. He nodded. "Definitely. That's all I think about. Although, sometimes in Potions I think of ways of killing Snape."

Ron sniggered.

Seamus gave Hermione a smile. "Believe me, that's all they've been day dreaming about since third year."

* * *

That night after classes Harry and Ron sat across from one another at a table in the common room. They both had blank parchment in front of them. Hermione crawled through the portrait hole and made her way to the table. She sat down next to Ron. She looked at their parchment.

"What are you doing?"

"Divination," Harry answered.

"Oh for heaven's sake why is your parchment blank? You can't make anything up?"

Harry shook his head. "It's one thing to write in a dream journal and say you dreamt you were a shoe because you were asleep, you don't really have any control over what you dream. But, to say you were awake and _daydreaming_ you were a shoe…"

"I get it, I get it," Hermione said with a wave of her hand. "I don't see why you shouldn't just write down the truth. Wouldn't it make the whole assignment easier? And furthermore, why are you doing this now? You always wait until the last moment to do your homework."

"Trelawney wants to see the first entry tomorrow to make sure we've got the right idea about the journal. Then, we have to keep it for a month. She wants every dream recorded. At least one a day but she knows we dream loads more than that." Harry look at Hermione. "Or, at least, that's what she says."

"So write down the truth. That's what I would do."

"Well, we don't day dream about skipping lunch to study in the library like you do," Ron said.

"That's not fair!" Hermione cried. "You make me sound like I'm so boring, that all I do is read! I'll tell you something Ronald Weasley, I day dream about boys just as much as you day dream about girls!"

"I find that hard to believe," Ron muttered.

"Ice water doesn't run through my veins, Ronald. Sometimes I go to sleep thinking about snogging just like you do."

Harry picked up his parchment and books. "I think I'd better head to the library." He slipped out of the portrait hole without either of them noticing.

"I don't think you have ice running through your veins." Ron sat his quill carefully down on the table. He took Hermione's hands in his. She pulled away from his grasp. Ron groaned. "But, it's hard to believe you think about anything other than studying when you won't even kiss me."

"There were people in the common room!"

"So?"

"We've hardly been together for a month. I'm just not comfortable kissing you in front of all of Gryffindor. That still doesn't mean I don't think about boys. Or, well, you."

Ron looked at her. He almost believed her.

"What did you think about me today?" Ron asked.

"I don't know. What did you think about me?"

Ron shrugged. "Nothing in particular."

"You might as well go ahead and tell me before you put it in writing when you write your silly Divination homework."

"It's embarrassing, I'm not going to tell you."

Hermione began to stand up. "Fine, I'll be in my room."

"Oh, fine, just sit down!" Ron said annoyed. "All during History of Magic I watched the curls of the back of your head and thought about snogging you in my room and being able to actually touch your chest." As soon as the words escaped his mouth Ron turned more deeply red than he ever had before. He hid his face in his hands, unable to believe she had gotten him to admit a day dream he had had about her.

Hermione tried not to smile. She felt a bit bad about it, but overall she felt happy that she was able to have such an effect on Ron that would make him dream about her during classes. Truth was, she had a hard time concentrating in Binns' class as well. Ever since Ron had first kissed her she could think of little else. It was thrilling having a boy who wanted to make her happy, kiss her senseless, and still had enough decency not to push her too hard.

"Don't look so downtrodden."

Ron glanced up at Hermione. She rolled her eyes.

"Come on," she said, standing up.

"Where are we going?"

"To your room."

* * *

Just outside the portrait hole Harry ran into Ginny. She smiled at him.

"Where are you off to?" she asked.

"Library. Hermione and Ron are at it again and I don't feel like being brought into the middle of it."

"Want some company?"

"I'm just going to go there to work on my Divination. Maybe Potions." Harry held up his Potions book. "But you can join me if you'd like."

Ginny nodded. They set off down the corridor.

"Where were you?"

"Talking to Luna. She's having a bit of a hard time."

"With what?"

"Well, you know she fancied Ron in fifth year."

"I didn't know that."

"And now she's beginning to fancy Neville."

Harry sniggered. "Interesting choice."

"But, Neville really isn't the sort to _date_ I'm afraid. I told her I'd talk to him. See if he's noticed her." Ginny tucked her arm through Harry's. "I don't really like to play matchmaker, though. So, what Divination homework do you have?"

"That day dream journal."

Ginny laughed. "Oh, good, I wondered if I'd ever get to know what the famous Harry Potter thinks about when he gets that far off look in his eye."

They entered the library. It was half full, mostly fifth years. They sat down at what was slowly becoming their usual table. Ginny went to get books about Old Magic while Harry decided to work on his Potions essay.

"Oh, please do you Divination. I want to know what you dream about." Ginny smiled brightly.

"Well, today whenever I wasn't paying attention in class I was thinking about when to hold Quidditch tryouts… about finding a spell against Voldemort… and, well, about shagging my best mate's little sister."

"Scandalous."

"You have no idea."

Ginny leaned forward and kissed Harry on the mouth. She pulled away after a moment, knowing they were in the library.

"Work on your Potions. I'll look through these books."

* * *

Ron opened the door to his room. Hermione walked inside in front of him. Ron closed the door and set a locking spell against the door – in case any wild Gryffindors had any bright ideas about barging into his room.

Hermione took off her school robe and draped it over the desk chair. She looked up at Ron shyly. He took off his robes and put them on top of hers. While her uniform was still perfect, Ron had untucked his shirt and taken off his tie. Hermione sat on his bed and held out her hands so he would come to her. Ron had no idea what she wanted to do. He sat down next to her.

"Try not to go too fast," she said to him, looking straight at his mouth. Ron barely nodded before Hermione had put her mouth to his. She kissed him deeply, tongue and all. She scooted back on the bed so she could lie back against his pillows. She pulled him with her. Ron shifted his weight, careful not to lie completely on top of her – he didn't want to suffocate his girlfriend after all.

He ended up lying half on top of her, one arm supporting his body, the other playing with her hair. Hermione's hands went from around his neck to underneath his shirt, running up his chest until they were on his bare shoulders. Her touch felt like electricity against every nerve in his skin. Taking her lead, he untucked her shirt and placed his hand on her bare hip. She didn't protest. Slowly, he drew his hand up her side until he felt the cotton of her bra.

Ron's heart raced when he realized how close he was to her breasts. He dreamt about them ever since he noticed she had them. He waited for her to protest as he moved his hands to touch them. When she didn't he gave them the slightest squeeze. God, they were bloody brilliant! Ron felt a little bolder and moved his mouth away from hers and went to kiss her neck. He had seen loads of girls at school with hickeys on their necks. But, seeing as how everyone knew he and Hermione were together now, he thought that if he could leave marks on her it would be like branding her his. Then, maybe Seamus would shut up about his twelve inch privates.

Hermione moved her hands up and down his back. She went to touch his stomach but accidentally ran her hand just below his belt. She had hardly realized she had done it but Ron jumped back in surprise, his hands leaving her body.

* * *

Harry wrote twenty-four inches – just like Snape had asked of him – for his Potions essay. He wondered what he should write down for Trelawney. He settled for his thoughts about Quidditch tryouts. It was nearly curfew before he was through with everything. Ginny had gone through three more books with no luck. They gathered their things and left the library.

Harry tugged on Ginny's sleeve to get her to follow him. They walked through the corridors until they were in front of the Room of Requirement.

"What should I think of?" Harry asked.

Ginny shrugged.

Harry paced back and forth in front of the room. He looked at Ginny. They went inside.

"It looks just like the common room," she said.

"I was just thinking of a place where we could be alone without worrying about your brother seeing us."

"Well, it works just fine. Close the door."

Harry closed the door and put his books down on one of the tables. He sat next to Ginny on the couch, his mouth instinctively moving to her neck. She worked on the buttons of his shirt and pushed it over his shoulders and dropped it onto the floor. She loved the feel of his arms and ran her hands up and down them. She lifted up his head with her hands and kissed his mouth. She shifted underneath him and felt him press against the inside of her leg. It twitched.

She hadn't even realized Harry had unbuttoned her own shirt until she felt him push her bra up above her breasts. His hands were on them, caressing them, trying to make her nipples hard. She felt her heart beat erratically inside her chest. Harry's mouth trailed kisses along her jaw, shoulder, and throat until he reached her breasts. He kissed them, too, taking her nipples inside of his mouth. Just as he did this, Ginny unbuckled his uniform pants and slipped her hand inside.

* * *

"Sorry," Ron murmured.

Hermione blushed. "I didn't mean to touch you."

"It's okay, you just startled me is all."

"We should probably stop," Hermione said, sitting up, smoothing out her clothes and hair.

"Oh. Right."

"I don't mean because of _that_." She nodded towards Ron's pants. He was now sitting up, his knees drawn to his chest so she wouldn't be able to see him hard. "I meant because it's late and you got pretty far in the last half hour, yeah?"

Ron couldn't help but smile. "Yeah."

"I hope that gave you plenty to day dream about for your journal."

"You have no idea. Thank you."

Hermione looked at Ron for a moment, confused. "You don't need to thank me. I liked it, too, you know. Oh, listen to me! I sound like a scarlet woman."

"No, you don't. It's only me. You can say whatever you like."

"Well, I like you and I liked this and if that makes me a scarlet woman than I daresay being scarlet is quite a fun colour!"

Ron smiled weakly.

"I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow. I'm off to do my patrols." Hermione hopped off the bed, gave Ron a quick kiss, and left his room.

Ron flopped back down on his bed, breathing heavily. That girl did things to him he didn't understand. He would have offered to go on patrols with Hermione if he hadn't needed to shower and soap off the sweat and relieve himself for the second time in the same number of days.

* * *

Harry took his wand and did a quick cleaning charm before buttoning up his pants. He threw his shirt over his shoulders and looked at Ginny. She was buttoning up her shirt. He took her hands in his and kissed them.

"I love these hands."

Ginny laughed. "I bet you love them even more _now_."

Harry nodded. "You have no idea." He kissed her lips. She pushed him away, laughing.

"We have to get back to the common rooms before curfew," she said.

Harry knew she was right. He haphazardly buttoned up his shirt. He grabbed his books and waited for Ginny by the door. As they walked out into the corridor Harry bumped right into Seamus.

"Hi," Harry said, looking from Seamus to Lavender, things clicking inside of his head. "Having some fun with Flitwick's wand tonight?" he asked Lavender.

"Well, maybe I spoke too hastily about it being like _Flitwick's_ wand…" Lavender's voice trailed off, obviously bored.

Seamus looked at Harry's shirt, the wrong buttons through the wrong holes, and Ginny's mussed up hair. Things clicked inside of his head, too. He smiled wickedly.

"Seamus, you promised me," Ginny said. "Not a word to Ron." She looked at Lavender. "Please?"

"Like I care who you shag," Lavender said. "Come on, Seamus." She pulled the brown haired boy inside the room and shut the door behind them.

Harry looked nervously at Ginny. They quickly made their way down the corridor, hoping not to meet anyone else before they got back to Gryffinor.

**To Be Continued…**


	7. Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning Hermione and Ginny waited for Harry and Ron to come down the stairs before heading to breakfast. Ron was the first one down. He seemed to be in a chipper mood, a smile pasted onto his face.

"You look happy," Ginny said.

Ron shrugged. "Just in a good mood. Did you see the notice board? Harry posted a notice about Quidditch tryouts. I don't suppose we have to tryout but it says that we have to go. It's on Sunday after breakfast."

"Well, he probably wants to make sure his best Chaser is still up to the task."

"What about his best Keeper?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know, I'm not so sure we've found him yet."

Ron frowned at her.

"I'm kidding!"

Seamus came down the stairs two at a time carrying his school robes. He was whistling.

"Is Harry up?" Hermione asked.

Seamus shrugged. "I think he's in the loo." He looked at Hermione's neck and then at Ginny's. "Damn! Is the same guy eating on both of your necks?"

Ron made a face. "That's really, sick, Seamus."

"I didn't mean _you_."

Ginny gave Seamus a warning look. He didn't say anything else. He turned to the girls' staircase as Lavender walked down.

"Mornin'," she said. She saw Seamus. "Did you give Ginny her robes back?"

"Oh, right." Seamus handed Ginny her black Hogwarts robes. He put his own on over his shoulders.

Ginny blushed and took her robes. "Um, thanks, Seamus."

"Whose robes are those?" Ron asked, pointing to the third pair of robes Seamus had.

"Those are Harry's," Lavender answered. "Can we go to breakfast now?" she asked Seamus.

"Why do you have Ginny and Harry's robes?"

"They left them in the Room of Requirement last night," Lavender answered. She took the robes from Seamus' hands and thrust them at Ron. "Give those to Harry, won't you? I'm starved." She pushed Seamus towards the portrait hole.

* * *

Harry heard the explosion from the common room all the way upstairs. He heard Ron's voice and only assumed the worst. He took his time tucking in his shirt and tying his tie. He looked around for his school robes but couldn't find them. He picked up his bag and stuffed his Divination and Defense books inside of it and walked out of the dormitory and down the stairs. He entered the common room slowly and smiled at Ron.

"Morning," he said.

Ron whirled around. From the look on Ron's face Harry knew Ron had found out about Ginny. The look on Ginny's face confirmed it.

"I've already got one black eye, please don't give me another," Harry asked.

Ron didn't say anything. He threw Harry's robes at him hard and walked out of the portrait hole. Hermione couldn't decide whether or not to follow Ron. She looked at Harry apologetically.

"Sorry, Harry," she said as she jogged after Ron.

Harry looked at Ginny. "I'm sorry, too."

She shrugged. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."

"Right. I thought he was going to slug me. Now he's just not going to talk to me ever again."

* * *

Harry began to sit with Neville in all his classes. Ron opted to sit with Hermione, or if they had different classes he sat with Dean – as Dean hated Harry, too. Hermione stated she hadn't taken sides, but it didn't take Harry long to notice she never left Ron sitting alone in the common room.

Ron not speaking to Harry was making Quidditch difficult. Harry had called practices for every Wednesday and Saturday. Ron seemed to be doing excellent as Keeper. He also seemed to be channeling his angry during his keeping. It was already October and Ron still hadn't spoken a word to Harry.

Harry suggested to Ginny that they not sneak off together; he didn't want to spark Ron's anger any more. But, Ginny refused, saying Ron was old enough to accept that people would want to date her and they shouldn't let his temper control their lives.

A cold front swept through Hogwarts the second week of October. Harry hated having to traipse off to Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures with the cold winds. He never left Gryffindor Tower without his cloak and jumper. In the common room Ron and Hermione were never seen. Harry knew they were up in Ron's room and knowing Hermione she was probably making him study. When he and Ginny knew Ron was safely upstairs they sit together on the couch under a blanket and study or talk. Sometimes they'd wait until everyone had gone upstairs and have a long snog before heading to bed themselves.

In the second week of October, the cold front showed no signs of moving. Up in Ron's room, Hermione was trying to teach him how to conjure up furniture.

"Furniture is a tall order," Ron said.

"I know. It's really not all that hard. You need to get the wand movement down first."

Ron sighed. He tried it again with no luck. He flopped back on his bed and closed his eyes. "I give up. Don't make me try it again."

"I won't." Hermione sighed. She took her Arithmancy book and sat near the head of Ron's bed. She opened it up and began to read from it. Ron was in no mood to study. He felt like he needed a long nap. Conjuring and transfiguring always took energy from him, as he never seemed to be able to do it right. He crawled over to Hermione and laid his head in her lap. He had never done this before but she seemed like she would be a very decent pillow indeed.

Ron closed his eyes. Hermione laced her fingers through his long hair as she continued to study. Ron fell asleep curled up in his girlfriend's lap. Hermione looked at him, snoring softly, and rolled her eyes gently. He was so adorable to her.

* * *

Down in the common room Harry and Ginny were looking through several books she had checked out from the library. Madam Pince didn't ask why Ginny was up to, but she did raise her eyebrows as she looked at the titles of the books. They were, of course, all books about Old Magic.

Harry was beginning to grow weary. They had been searching through books in the library for more than a month without any luck. It was growing closer and closer to the Christmas holidays and Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach that the holidays would mark Voldemort's final return. Something about seeing Voldemort in that vision during the first week of school made Harry think that was part of the end – that he was seeing what was going to happen in the final battle with Voldemort.

"Hey, Harry," Ginny said, "this book has something interesting in it." She looked over at him, the light from the fireplace dancing across his skin. She couldn't help but smile a little bit. "It talks about sacrifice. Listen, Voldemort couldn't touch you because your mother gave herself up for you. That was a love sacrifice. The end result was that you were protected by a shield of love, if you will."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, this passage elaborates on that a little bit. If someone tries to defeat a Dark wizard that otherwise has not been able to be beaten, then a love sacrifice is the way to do it. If you sacrifice yourself to Voldemort then when he tries to kill you it backfires because the love you have is too powerful for him and will ultimately destroy him."

"The love I have?"

Ginny nodded. "If Voldemort tried to kill someone you loved and you sacrificed yourself instead of them, then Voldemort's spell would backfire and kill _him_."

"Then, why didn't my mother survive when she sacrificed herself for me?"

"Because she wasn't destined to be Voldemort's equal."

Harry was quiet. "So… maybe my vision was true, then."

Ginny's heart quickened.

"Maybe we're meant to go to the Burrow this Christmas. Maybe Voldemort's meant to take you and maybe I'm meant to sacrifice myself. I keep thinking that this vision is a part of the final battle between Voldemort and me. I think we should show this book to Dumbledore, though. It almost seems too simple." Harry swallowed. "Hey, Gin… does the book say if I sacrifice myself whether or not _I'll_ survive?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, but it has to be a real love sacrifice."

"I know."

Ginny shook her head again. "No, Harry. There has to be undying love – unconditional love. Like a mother has for her child or a husband has for his wife. The love has to be pure otherwise it's not strong enough to defeat a Dark wizard." She cleared her throat. "It says, '_Love that is pure in heart and love that has been proven_.' I don't know what that means but—"

"We'll talk to Dumbledore," Harry said. "See what he has to say. But, I understand what the book is saying. If what it's saying is true and that's the way to defeat Voldemort, then I don't know if I want you involved."

"What?" Ginny cried out, her anger rising.

"I don't want you to get hurt. I care too much about you to risk you getting hurt."

"Harry…"

"I'm serious."

"Look, Harry, that's very sweet, but I don't know as if I could be the one you sacrifice yourself for anyway. It has to be _pure_ love, proven love. You're not in love with me."

"No… But, by Christmas I might be. I like you a _lot_, Gin. And not just for the snogging and the… other stuff. You make me laugh. Ron and Hermione are good fun, but you just let me _be_. You don't try to make me talk about stuff whereas sometimes they do. You don't force anything from me. I like that."

"It doesn't mean love, Harry."

"But why couldn't it? If given enough time?"

Ginny's heart quickened. She felt scared. She wasn't ready for this much honesty so soon. Dean never told her whether or not he loved her. Michael Connor had never said such things either. And here, after scarcely more than a month, Harry was ready to tell her he would be falling in love with her one day. She couldn't handle hearing this. She had been with Dean for well over a year. It wasn't commitment she was afraid of. It was of her own heart. Of falling too deep for someone. She could drown in her feelings for Harry if she gave into them. She wasn't ready for that.

"I thought we were just having fun."

Harry's face dropped. It wasn't the reaction he had been expecting. "Fun?"

"Yeah. Fun. A little snog here and there."

"No, Gin, you don't mean it like that." He studied her face, but for once he couldn't read it. "I know you fancied me. You said you did!"

"Fancied sure. I'm attracted to you. It was still fun."

Harry reached for her, but Ginny pulled away. She stood up. She didn't know what she was doing. She had never seen this side of Harry before. He had always kept his emotions carefully tucked away inside of him. He never laid his cards down on the table like this, all face up for her to see. She wasn't prepared to see them. She needed more time.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered. "I can't do this."

"Can't do this? Can't do this right now or can't do this for good?"

Ginny looked at his eyes. They were pleading her to say the first choice.

"I don't know," she said. "But, I definitely can't do this." She turned and fled up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

Harry leaned his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. He felt like Ginny had just ripped his heart right out of his chest and stomped on it a few times for good measure. He knew she was lying. He knew how she really felt. He could see it in her eyes when he kissed her. She needed him as badly as he needed her. Why was she so eager to end things so abruptly?

Harry heard Ron and Hermione come down the stairs. He had forgotten that it was about the time for them to leave for their nightly patrols. He turned and looked at them as they entered the common room. He didn't wipe away the single tear that had fallen from one of his eyes.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, her voice filled with worry. "What happened?" Even Ron looked concerned. The stupid git.

Harry didn't look at Hermione; his eyes focused on Ron. "Well, you should be happy. I think your sister just broke my fucking heart." Harry stood up from the couch and walked towards the portrait hole, brushing Ron hardly as he left. He stopped and looked at Hermione. "I'm going to save you the trouble of looking for me later when I'm out past curfew. I won't be back for a while."

And with that, the portrait hole closed.

* * *

Harry went straight to Dumbledore's office, the book in his hand. He said the password, "Canary Creme," and the gargoyle moved to reveal the staircase. Before Harry even had time to knock on Dumbledore's office door, the door opened and the old wizard appeared before Harry, an amused look on his face.

"Come in."

Harry walked into the office. He said a quick hello to Fawkes and sat down in the chair in front of the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore sat down and folded his hands in front of him on the desk.

"What's that you have in your hand?"

Harry looked at the book. "Ginny found this… well, this passage in this book that might explain how I can defeat Voldemort." Harry quickly flipped through the pages until he found the right one. He handed the book to Dumbledore. "It seems too simple, but it seems to make sense. And I had this vision…" Harry told Dumbledore all about his vision, his doubts about it and his faith in it. He told the old wizard that if the book states truth then, given Ginny's cooperation, he'd be able to defeat Voldemort.

"You would have to have pure love for her, though." There was a twinkle in Dumbledore's eye as he said it.

"I know." Harry blushed. "I think I… will. Or could." Harry swallowed. "If she'd give me the chance, that is. But, what I really want to know is that if that book is right or not."

Dumbledore studied the book for a second time. He nodded. "I think so. This book is hundreds of years old. Even I know not of what is in each of the books in the library. My memory cannot possibly stretch back that far. This is Old Magic. Magic forgotten once wizards and witches learned how to do more… convenient spells. Things such as 'love sacrifices' were no longer needed once one could just throw the Killing Curse at someone." Dumbledore handed the book back to Harry. "But, I think Miss Weasley has found the answer to your problem. As long as you can get her to cooperate." Dumbledore winked.

"But, in the book, it has that the love has to be proven. What does that mean?"

The headmaster took in a deep breath. "Love can be proven in many ways. Your mother proved her love for you when she sacrificed herself. She also proved her love by giving birth to you and loving you unconditionally. Your father proved his love for your mother when he…" Dumbledore seemed to be searching for the right words. "They proved their love for one another when they were wed."

"I can sacrifice myself for… well, for Ginny," Harry said, "but I thought the book meant that the love has to be proven _before_ the sacrifice for the sacrifice to work."

Dumbledore nodded.

"How do I do that? I can't just get married."

"I know."

"Is there another way?"

"You will figure it out when the time comes, Harry."

Harry sat, confused. "How will I know I've figured it out?"

"You'll just know." Dumbledore smiled. "Love has a way of working things out. I wouldn't worry too much about Miss Weasley. Now, I think you should probably head back to Gryffindor Tower before it gets too late."

"Thanks, Professor." Harry gave Dumbledore a smile before leaving the headmaster's office.

* * *

The next morning Ginny didn't show up at breakfast. Harry sat by himself, feeling miserable. It was times like these that his mind swarmed with thoughts of his parents and Sirius. He could barely down his toast.

Hermione sat down across from Harry, dragging Ron behind her.

"Hi, Harry," she said. She gave Ron a look. Ron sighed loudly.

"Listen, Harry," Ron said. Harry's eyes looked up when he heard Ron address him for the first time in a month. "I know I was angry before about you and my sister but I didn't really want you to get hurt. And if she was going to be with anyone, she's probably better with you since you're my best mate… or were my best mate."

"We're still best mates," Harry said, relieved.

"Oh, good, then." Ron took some bacon from the platter in the middle of the table.

Harry had a feeling Hermione had forced Ron to say those things to him, but it didn't matter. They were said and Harry felt better.

"So, what happened anyway? With Ginny, I mean."

"Oh. I don't rightly know. She got just upset."

"Well, you're not going to stay broken up are you?" Ron asked.

"Ron, do you always have to talk with your mouth full?" Hermione asked. Ron scowled at her.

"I don't know," Harry answered, choosing to ignore Hermione's constant chastising of Ron. "I think that's up to her. I'll give her a bit of time and then I'll talk to her. I don't want her to stay mad at me."

"She's always been a little hot headed." Ron swallowed his bacon. "Have you seen Hagrid's pumpkin patch this year? It's loads bigger than it was last year and there's still two weeks until Halloween."

"Hagrid's classes haven't been as interesting as they have been in the past," Hermione said. "He seems preoccupied with something else. His heart hasn't been into teaching like it has been the past few years."

"Well, that's certainly true," Harry said. "He's probably doing stuff for the Order. Or for Grawp. Speaking of which, Grawp came back from the mountains didn't he?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't been into the forest all year to find out. I wonder if he did anything useful. I mean, giants aren't very nice, are they? They might've hurt Grawp since he left and tried to come back."

"Well, he's not _really_ trying to get back in with them. He's just a spy for the Order," Hermione said, her voice low. "Hagrid's never in his hut anymore when I go down to visit. Maybe he _is_ with Grawp in the forest. I don't know."

"We could always ask," Harry suggested.

Hermione nodded. They finished their breakfast and gathered their books as they went towards the dungeons for Potions.

* * *

That night Hermione excused herself from the common room. She had a book to find in the library. She left Ron and Harry alone at one of the common room tables. They were both working on another one of Snape's essays.

"So, how are things with Hermione, then?" Harry asked.

"Fine. Still biting my head off every day like normal."

"Is that all?"

Ron looked up at his friend. "Well… nothing that I can really tell you about, seeing as how you told me not to."

"Ah." Harry looked back down at his parchment. He couldn't think of anything else to say about Lambsglove. It was useless to even try. "Well, you can tell me, if you want. I don't mind."

Ron looked relieved. "Well, ever since Seamus and Lavender decided to get back together it's been getting under my skin that Hermione is so… _reserved_."

"She can't be too reserved, can she? I mean, I've seen you kiss her before."

Ron shrugged. "Sure, we do that. But, she doesn't let me unbutton _anything_. She's finally let me touch her chest under her shirt whenever I want to, but blimey, she won't touch me at all. It's getting to be rather annoying."

"So, why don't you tell her?"

"Tell her that I have to wank off every night because she won't do it for me? No, thank you."

"Every night? That _is_ bad."

"Fuck you." Ron sighed. "I don't want to make her mad and I don't want to be with anyone else"—Ron began to blush—"but I also want to move things _forward_. It's been over two months. You'd think I could've gotten farther than this. Especially when Lavender and Seamus were together last year two weeks before they started going at it."

"Do you really want Hermione to be like Lavender?"

Ron shook his head. "Oh, of course not. It's not like I make it sound. I mean, she's lovely, really. And I… I like her a lot. She drives me mad, really. I want to be with her so much and she won't let me. She won't even let me kiss her in front of anyone else. And if anyone accidentally sees, she pulls away and distances herself. As if it's embarrassing or a crime."

"You know how Hermione is about rules and there's not suppose to be any fraternizing amongst students."

Ron rolled his eyes. "_All_ the professors know that's a load of bullocks. And she breaks the rules all the time by coming into my room."

"She's just scared. Talk to her."

"I guess."

"Besides, at some point I figure you guys'll get together and procreate like mad – just like your parents."

Ron sniggered. "Yeah, right."

Harry shrugged.

"It's not like I want to have sex with her."

"Bullocks."

"No, listen, I do, but not yet. My parents – hell, your parents, too – were never with anyone else other than each other since they met in Gryffindor. Bill and Charlie had never been with anyone except the girls they married. Percy, too, for that matter, even though he's not married yet – I mean, he has plans to marry Penelope, though. The twins are the only exception. But they're _always_ the exception."

"Bill hadn't been with anyone until Fleur?"

Ron shook his head. "He told me this summer when Mum told him about me and Hermione. I think he was trying to give me the whole 'sex talk' for Mum. I believe him, too. He's never lied to me before. Charlie married someone from Gryffindor, too. Fleur was never in Hogwarts, though, but still that's besides the point."

Harry swallowed. "Well… that's very interesting."

Ron shrugged. "I think it's old fashioned. I don't really want to be old fashioned, but I can't help it."

"My parents were like that, too," Harry said, a bit sadly. "I guess it's a nice thought in theory."

Ron nodded. "Yeah. But, it makes me sound like a girl."

"Oh, I dunno. Actually, I think it makes you sound mature, which is a weird thought. Anyway, I personally had never thought one way or another about being with one person and no one else for the rest of my life."

"You didn't with Cho…?"

Harry shook his head. "Oh, and not with your sister either! And that's the truth. I'm sure you've all figured out I didn't just give Cho a quick snog underneath the mistletoe fifth year, but I didn't sleep with her either. I was clumsy enough as it was without adding more humiliation to that night."

A sly grin crossed Ron's face. "So, when you said the kiss with Cho was wet, you didn't really mean because she was crying, did you?"

Harry gave Ron a sly look back and shook his head. "No, I sure as hell didn't."

They both laughed. Harry turned his head towards the portrait hole as Ginny climbed through. Harry felt his heart completely stop. Ron noticed the look on Harry's face and he turned around to see his sister as well.

"I'm glad you two are talking again," Ginny said, walking up to the table. She looked at Harry. "Can we talk?"

Ron made to leave, but Ginny stopped him.

"I think this talk would be better if we went somewhere we could be alone. I have a lot of things I need to say."

Harry nodded. "All right." He followed Ginny out of the portrait hole, leaving Ron alone at the table with his Potions essay.

To Be Continued…

* * *

**A/N: I am exhausted! I've had two full days in a row off of work and I haven't stopped writing since Wednesday. Unfortunately, I have to work tomorrow (Friday the 30th) so I won't be able to update again until Saturday or (gasp) Sunday at the latest.**

**Leave me reviews – they might inspire me to update sooner! A lot of people added me to their author alert list, which inspires me as well because then I know you are actually enjoying the story!**

**Happy reading and I will be back with another update soon!**


	8. Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ginny and Harry went up the moving staircase to the third floor corridor which was still deserted. Ginny sat herself down on top of the staircase. Harry sat down next to her. She shifted herself so she could look him straight in the face. She took in a deep breath and forced a sad smile.

"Harry… the thing is is that I've had boyfriends in the past. I dated Dean for more than a year so I'm not really afraid of commitment. But even he never told me whether or not he loved me. You made such a huge leap telling me exactly what was going on in your head that I sort of freaked out. I don't know if I'm ready for such an _emotional_ commitment. It scares me."

Ginny took in another deep breath.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." She reached out and brushed some of Harry's black hair away from his eyes. She ran her fingers across his scar. "You're right, I do fancy you. I like you very much. And, also, not just for the snogging and all that. I feel very comfortable with you, even when we sit together and don't say anything at all. You just scared me. That's some big stuff to say."

"Look, Gin, if I don't say these things now I don't know when I'll ever get to say them. I talked to Dumbledore and he seems to think that sacrifice is the way to defeat Voldemort. But, no one knows if I'll come back alive. This might be my last chance to ever, well, love anyone."

Ginny's eyes looked so big and glassy as Harry gazed into them.

"What I said before was true – I wish I didn't have to involve you. I don't want you to get hurt. But, if that book is true, then you'll have to be the one involved because you'll be the…"

"Pure love?"

Harry nodded. He shrugged. "I can't really help how I feel."

"I can't either. I don't know what it feels like to be in love. I have no idea. Nor do I want to be in love with someone who could die in the next few months. But, Harry, if I have to have my heart broken to save my family and, I guess, the whole wizarding world then it's what I'll have to do. Try and promise me one thing?"

"What's that?"

"Please don't die."

Harry laughed. "I can't promise something like that."

Ginny nodded sadly. "I know. But if you tell me you're not going to die enough times I may start to believe it."

Harry wet his lips. He tucked Ginny's hair behind her ears. He gathered her up in his arms and held her against him. She sighed and hugged him back, desperately not wanting to let go.

* * *

Hermione walked into the common room. She was hardly surprised to see Seamus and Lavender snogging on the couch, completely unaware that the common room was half filled with Gryffindors. She had long since given up trying to moralize the two of them when first years were present.

She walked over to the table where Ron was sleeping, a piece of parchment stuck to his cheek. She placed her hand on his shoulder and shook it lightly.

Ron's eyes opened. "Huh?" He sat up and pulled the parchment away from his face. "What time is it?"

"After curfew," Hermione answered. "I came back from the library and you were sleeping at the table so I did your patrols for you."

"You did my patrols?"

Hermione nodded. "Is that okay?"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, sure… How long have I been asleep?"

"I haven't the faintest."

"Huh. Weird." Ron looked at his parchment. "Hey! I finished my Potions essay, though."

"You did your homework on a Friday night?" Hermione was shocked.

"Yes. I guess you're rubbing off on me. It's all done. Except for a conclusion…"

Hermione looked at the essay over Ron's shoulder. "Do you, uh, want me to look it over for you?"

Ron narrowed his eyes. "You don't think I can write a good Potions essay?"

Hermione hesitated.

"Oh, fine! I don't want to bicker anyway. Here." Ron shoved the essay to her.

"I can look over it upstairs," she told him.

Ron stood up immediately. "All right, let's go."

They walked up the boys' dormitory stairs until they reached Ron's room. Ron opened the door and shivered. His room was cold. The stone walls did not insulate heat very effectively. Ron was glad that he had Dobby looking out for him, bringing him extra warm blankets from the laundry.

Hermione sat down at Ron's cluttered desk, rearranging things so she could see the wooden top of it. She began to read his essay. Ron stretched himself out on his unmade bed. He put his hands behind his head. He looked at the ceiling while listening to Hermione sigh and scratch things out on his essay. While part of him thought he should be offended that she didn't think he could write a decent essay, another part of him was relieved she always offered to help him with his homework. He knew he wouldn't have passed any of his History of Magic classes since first year if she hadn't taken notes and let him and Harry copy off her.

Ron looked over at her. He could feel his need for her grow little by little as she laid her head against her hand and brushed the end of her quill against her cheek. He got up from his bed and swept her hair away from neck and shoulder. He bent down and kissed her neck, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"Ronald! Do you want me to look at your essay or not?"

"Not." He undid her tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons of her shirt. He pulled it to one side, exposing her bare shoulder. He moved his mouth from her throat to her shoulder. His heart was beating fast as she had never allowed him to do this before. She gave a little moan in the back of her throat and Ron thought it was the sexiest damn thing he had ever heard in his entire life.

Hermione turned around in the chair and lifted her arms up and put them around Ron's neck. Ron picked her up and carried her to his bed. He laid her down and brought himself on top of her. Since she had let him unbutton the top three buttons of her shirt so he could kiss her shoulder, he felt a little bold. He reached his hand down to her leg. She bent it up. Ron ran his hand down her thigh until he felt the cotton of her skirt.

"Ron, wait."

Ron groaned loudly – not out of pleasure but of frustration. He turned over on his back and ran his fingers through his long red hair. He closed his eyes.

"What's wrong this time?"

Hermione didn't answer.

"I'm getting a bit discouraged, you know, wondering why my own girl hardly lets me touch her."

Hermione sat up and brought her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them, lacing her fingers together at her ankles.

"I'm scared."

Ron opened his eyes and looked at her. "Why?"

"Well, I do suppose it is a bit silly, but I don't know what to do with my hands. I feel a bit awkward not knowing where to put them. And I feel a bit awkward wondering where _your_ hands are going to go and I don't know what to do once your hands_ get_ there."

"My hands don't know what to do either, you know. I know what I _want_ them to do, though. I know you want to go slow and all but really, Hermione, there's slow and then there's standstill. You have to give me _something_."

"I have to give you _what_?"

"Something. I mean, like, leeway. You can't always tell me no because it'll get us no—"

"I'm scared of getting hurt," Hermione interrupted.

Ron was confused. "What? You think I'm going to shag you and then go off with someone else?"

"No, not… _that_ kind of hurt."

"I don't understand."

Hermione looked away from Ron and studied her shoes. "Physical hurt."

"You think I'm going to hurt you?" Ron felt the heat rise into his face. "I think I'm insulted. I'd never hurt you. I'm not bloody Malfoy!"

"No, Ron, I mean, unintentionally. I don't know how sensitive I am in… certain… places…"

Ron didn't understand right away. He had to think for a moment. Then the light bulb went on. "Oh, is that why you always stop me before hands get too close anywhere below your stomach?"

Hermione nodded. "I feel rather foolish."

"No, no. It's okay. If I ever hurt you you can tell me and I'll stop or ease up or something. It's not like I'm a bloody master at this stuff. You have to help me out, too. And as far as _your_ hands go, even if they feel awkward they're allowed to do whatever they want to!" Ron had tried to make a bit of a joke to lighten the mood but Hermione didn't look away from her shoes. Ron reached out and pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. She kicked off her shoes and turned herself around in Ron's arms so she could face him.

"I'm sorry I'm so neurotic."

"But, that's one of the things I like about you."

"Oh, yeah?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah," he replied, the volume of his voice low. He looked into her eyes and studied her face, the complexion of her skin, the curve of her cheeks, the fullness of her bottom lip. "I think you're gorgeous."

Hermione rolled her eyes but Ron didn't miss the smile that was threatening to show itself. He kissed her smiling mouth and ran his fingers through her hair. She shifted onto her back, bringing one bent knee up. Ron shifted as well. He parted her lips with his tongue and deepened the kiss.

Hermione felt her own heart race nervously. She timidly reached up and began to unbutton Ron's shirt. She pushed it away from his shoulders and Ron took it off and threw it somewhere away from the bed. Hermione ran her hands over his chest, feeling the tight skin over muscle and bone. She dragged her nails lightly over the bare skin of his back and returned them to his chest, touching the soft down of chest hair Ron had.

Ron couldn't believe how electric her touch felt. He put his hand on her bended knee and drew it upwards, underneath her skirt. This time she didn't protest, although he felt her tense up as he caressed the insides of her thighs. Her skin was smooth and soft – much softer than the skin on her lower thighs. He moved his fingers in bigger circles until he felt the cotton of her knickers. Ron resisted the urge to shudder in joy and he felt a surge bolt straight through his hand and into his groin.

He lifted up the cotton fabric with his thumb and let his other fingers feel the curls underneath. Ron was sure he was going to lose it right then and there. He shifted his weight so that hopefully Hermione wouldn't feel him twitching against her leg. He fingers gathered up more courage and found her part and dipped in there, feeling the slick skin. Hermione tensed up even more.

Ron removed his lips from her mouth and kissed her jaw. "Relax," he said into her ear, sucking on her earlobe. When Hermione didn't relax, Ron pulled his head back and tried to look at her but she had closed her eyes. "Look at me," he whispered. He kept his fingers where they were, stroking her up and down ever so lightly as to not hurt her.

Hermione opened her eyes and looked at Ron. She looked frightfully shy and nervous. Ron didn't say anything and neither did she, but Ron was hoping she would tell him to stop if she really wanted him to. He didn't want to push her beyond her limits, to make her resent anything they did, but he didn't want to stop either. This was an incredible leap forward for them physically and Ron was having a hell of a time keeping himself from exploding.

Hermione didn't ask him to stop. Instead she took her one of her hands away from his chest and reached down to the bulge in his pants. She ran the side of her index finger up and down the outside of his pants. It was her way of telling him he didn't have to stop.

Looking straight into her eyes while he touched her and she touched him was the most breathtaking experience Ron had ever had. He bent back down and claimed her lips once more.

* * *

"All right, now I _know_ it's past curfew."

A voice from behind Harry and Ginny made them jump. Both of their heads whipped around and saw Lupin standing behind them, coming down from another staircase.

"Hi, Professor," Harry said. "We were just talking."

Lupin glanced at their entwined hands, but returned his gaze to their faces. "Gryffindor tower not suitable anymore for you?"

"Where are you coming from?" Harry asked.

"Just out for a stroll through the castle," Lupin answered.

"It looked like you were coming from the direction of the hospital wing," Ginny said. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Oh, me? I'm fine. Snape's potion works well for me. No… I was… Well, I was coming from Madam Pomfrey. Tonks came for a visit and dropped a glass on her foot. I just went to get a potion to heal the cut. She's a bit clumsy sometimes."

"Tonks is here?" Ginny asked excitedly.

Lupin nodded. "A little weekend visit, I daresay."

"Where is she staying? I'd like to say hi to her tomorrow."

"Oh… well…" Lupin looked away from the two Gryffindors. "In my quarters."

"Oh." Ginny looked at Harry who shrugged. "Well, is it okay if I come by?"

"Yes, of course." Lupin looked back at Harry and Ginny. "How are things going otherwise? You both seem to be doing well in my class, but I expected nothing less from a Weasley and a Potter."

"Unless the Weasley was Fred or George."

Lupin chuckled. "They did amazingly well in my class – for them. They're very bright; they just don't care about school. Your father was much the same way for the first few years here, Harry."

"Really?"

Lupin nodded. "I had a talk with Dumbledore today…"

"Did he tell you about the book?" Harry asked.

Lupin nodded again.

"What do you think about it, Professor?" Ginny asked, her voice hopeful.

"I agreed that the solution sounds too easy, but it makes too much sense. Voldemort doesn't understand love. That particular emotion has hurt him in the past. I don't see why it couldn't hurt him again. Just as long as there is pure and proven love. You know, Harry, your parents remind me a lot of you and Ginny."

"How so?"

"Well," Lupin started, "at first they were almost exactly like Hermione and Ron. I could see that right away after spending ten minutes with them at Grimmauld Place. Your parents argued every time one of them spoke but they argued to keep their hands off of each other, I daresay. Once they were together in seventh year they stopped arguing and were quiet with one another. Very… comfortable. Very much like the two of you. Or, at least, what I have seen of you the past month at school."

Harry looked at Ginny and smiled.

"Professor," Ginny said, "do you know what it meant by proven love?"

Lupin clicked his tongue. "Perhaps. I'm not the one to tell you. You'll figure it out when the time comes. But, you two must get back to your common room before someone comes along who might actually give you detention for being out in the corridors this late." Lupin winked and walked past them down the stairs.

The two teenagers stood up and walked hand in hand back towards Gryffindor, careful to be quiet. They reached the portrait hole and whispered the password. They climbed inside and found the common room almost bare except for three seventh years – Seamus, Lavender, and Dean. They were sitting in the middle of the floor playing Wizard's Poker.

Seamus looked at them and sniggered. He very well knew it was way past curfew. Lavender glanced at them but didn't seem all that interested in their late return to the tower. Dean on the other hand looked incensed. He looked from Harry to Ginny to their interlaced fingers and tried not to let too much steam escape from his ears. He turned away from them and continued to play the card game but Seamus and Lavender both noticed how he threw his cards down on the floor much harder and almost angrily.

"I should probably head to bed," Ginny told Harry, careful to keep her voice low. "I… I'm sorry, you know, again."

"It's okay. Just don't ever threat to break up with me again. That might just kill me before Voldemort gets his chance to try."

Ginny didn't smile but she did kiss his cheek before she headed up the girls' stairs. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and walked up to his own dormitory. Neville's curtains were closed and Harry could hear faint snoring from behind them. Harry took off his tie and threw it on top of his desk. He changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed, closing his curtains around him. He buried himself deep underneath his blankets, as the castle was terribly cold this October. It wasn't long before he was asleep and dreaming of past visions and future proven love.

* * *

While Ron changed into pajamas quietly he watched Hermione as she slept in his bed, her uniform wrinkled but nevertheless still on her body. He felt elated. He wasn't even able to think of words to describe his mood. His girlfriend let him finger her for the first time and it was bloody fantastic. Those girly parts of hers were so neat to him. It wasn't only the jump in physicality with her. He felt like she had opened some of her doors and he was on his way in to knowing fully her heart. They had gotten over some of their awkward feelings and Ron hoped it would only be more fun from this point out.

He climbed into his bed next to her and pulled her close to him. He covered them with his blankets and nuzzled her neck.

"Mmm," she murmured, waking up. "Was I sleeping?"

"Yes. I was going to wake you up to see if you wanted to go back to your room." Ron kissed her neck once before letting his head fall back onto his pillow.

Hermione shook her head. She yawned and turned over. Ron shifted onto his back and Hermione rested her head on his shoulder as a pillow, her arms hugging him around his chest as she quickly fell back asleep. Ron ran his hands through her hair while he tried to fall asleep.

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning feeling energized and hungry. He rummaged through his trunk for a pair of jeans, long t-shirt, and sweatshirt. He found his sneakers and was thankful it was the weekend so he didn't have to wear his tie. He wondered whether or not he should take his cloak with him to breakfast in case he decided to go and visit Hagrid. He decided against it. He could always come back for it later. He trotted down the stairs to the common room. A few Gryffindors were there, most still in pajamas. Harry didn't see Ron nor Hermione and they never went to breakfast without him – or never before Ron had stopped speaking to Harry.

Still, Harry ran back up the stairs towards Ron's room, assuming the bloke was still asleep. He knocked on Ron's door. No answer. He tried it again. Maybe Ron wasn't there. Harry opened the door and popped inside.

"Hey, Ron!"

Harry looked at the lump in Ron's bed. It was far too large to be only Ron. Harry immediately felt like fleeing the room. Ron and Hermione both had woken up at the sound of Harry's voice. Ron yawned and Hermione sat up in bed.

"Oh, Harry!" she said, rather embarrassed.

"I, uh… shit, sorry!" Harry stepped back, trying to get back to the door so he could run far, far away, but he tripped over one of Ron's shoes and fell to the floor.

Hermione stood up. "Harry, are you all right?"

Harry covered his eyes with his hands. "Don't get up!"

"Oh, for heaven's _sake_, Harry! I'm wearing my uniform." She rolled her eyes. She walked over to her shoes and slipped them on her feet.

Harry uncovered his eyes and looked up at Hermione. "Oh, for fuck's _sake_, Hermione! You were in Ron's bed, what was I suppose to think?"

Hermione tapped Harry on his head. "Use your brain, Harry. I'm going to shower. I'll meet you two in the common room for breakfast in fifteen minutes." She left Ron's room and retreated back to her own.

Harry looked at Ron who was standing up and stretching, his pajamas dreadfully short for him. Ron went to his trunk and found a pair of jeans and one of his old maroon wool jumpers. He closed the trunk and sat on top of it while taking off his pajama top, putting on a t-shirt, and then his jumper.

"That was rather awkward," Ron said as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

Harry just nodded.

"Are you okay?"

Harry shook his head.

"What's wrong?"

"I came up here to see if you wanted breakfast. And I see Hermione in your bed. And I distinctly remember a conversation we had last night about how _reserved_ she was."

"I know. She fell asleep is all. We did talk, though. Let's just say she _un_-reserved herself a bit." Ron blushed and put on his jumper. He picked up a pair of jeans from the floor.

Harry averted his eyes while Ron put on his jeans.

"Have you seen my other sneaker?"

"I think I'm sitting on it." Harry reached under him and pulled out a gray shoe. He tossed it to Ron. "Well, I'm happy for you, then. But, next time, for my sake, please put a locking charm on your door?"

* * *

Quidditch practice that afternoon was grueling. The winds were blowing extra hard and even with all the Quidditch padding, a jumper, and a sweatshirt, Harry was still shivering from the cold. Ginny and Ron didn't look any better – their noses were both pink and frozen.

Harry was trying desperately to get their newest Chaser to loosen up a bit and try to throw the Quaffle just a tad bit harder at the goals so Ron would have more of a challenge. Harry didn't want to call the end of practice, even though he was sure there were icicles hanging off the end of his broom, because he hadn't spotted the snitch yet. He was distracted by his team, watching their work. His Beaters weren't beating hard, his Chasers weren't chasing hard enough, and his Keeper had hardly been given the chance to keep hard enough.

Finally, Harry spotted the snitch near the ground. He raced down to the ground, reaching his hand out for the snitch. He grasped it in his hand and landed neatly on the ground. He raised up his arm so he team would see he had gotten the snitch which signaled the end of practice.

Ginny had the Quaffle and flew to the ground and placed it back in its proper place in Madam Hooch's trunk. The two Beaters caught their bludgers with a bit of trouble and fought to stay on their brooms as they brought them down to the ground. This all took a matter of seconds. Harry's arm was still in the arm, making sure that the whole team was retreating to the ground for an end-of-practice pep talk.

Harry was about to drop his arm when a third bludger came out of nowhere and crashed into it. Just like second year, Harry felt a searing pain shoot through his arm as the bone broke. His hand involuntarily let go of the snitch and it flew away.

"_Fuck_!" Harry cried out, clutching his arm. Ginny and Ron both ran over to him. Harry quickly looked around the pitch to see where the third bludger came from. He had no idea. He thought the only Quidditch balls belonged to Madam Hooch where she released them for practices. He had no idea someone else in school would have their own set.

"Malfoy," Ron said, pointing to the stadium stands where Draco and his two goons sat, clutching their sides they were laughing so hard.

"I'll kill them," Ginny said, starting out towards the stands.

Ron took hold of the back of her jumper and stopped her. "No, you don't want to be banned from Quidditch like Harry in fifth year."

"Dumbledore won't ban me. Besides, Malfoy deserves a good kick in the nuts."

"No, Gin, don't," Harry said. "Madam Pomfrey can mend my arm in a minute. We'll just go there." To the rest of the team, who were looking rather incensed themselves, Harry told them all to get back to the castle as practice was over.

"What about the snitch?" Kirke asked.

Harry had forgotten he let the snitch go when the bludger hit him.

"I'll stay and look for it," Ginny offered. "You go to the hospital wing. I'll see you up there."

"Get someone to stay with you," Harry told her. "I don't trust Malfoy alone with you – or anyone."

"I'll make Sloper stay," Ginny said unenthusiastically.

Harry and Ron made their way up to the castle, both cursing Malfoy under their breaths.

* * *

Harry had been in the hospital wing so many times that Madam Pomfrey reserved one of the beds especially for him. It had started out as a joke: "Potter, sit on _your_ bed," but no one else ever used it anymore. Ron sat in a chair, talking to Harry as Madam Pomfrey mended the bone. She made Harry drink a Bone Strengthening Potion and told him to sit for an hour.

"Sometimes there's a bit of a nasty reaction to the potion. I want to make sure you are okay before I release you."

"What kind of reaction?" Harry asked.

"You'll know if you get it. You'll feel an itch."

Harry didn't much like the sound of that, so he tried his hardest to concentrate on not scratching himself anywhere.

"Malfoy's a stupid git," Ron said. "I'd like to throw a bludger at him and see how _he_ likes it."

Harry shrugged. "I've given up on Malfoy. Although, if he tries to break my other arm I'll get Hermione to hex him."

Ron liked the sound of that.

Both boys craned their heads around at the sound of the hospital wing door opening. At first they only saw McGonagall and Lupin, but at second glance they saw both professors were levitating two students towards beds. Sloper was walking behind them, looking rather glum. Once Lupin and McGonagall moved out of the way, Harry and Ron immediately saw the two students were Ginny and Malfoy.

Before either Ron or Harry could ask what happened, Madam Pomfrey was running out of her office.

"What happened, Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall looked at Sloper. "Tell her."

Sloper, looking even smaller than usual, bit his lip. "Well, see, Malfoy let a bludger out and it hit Harry's arm." Sloper glanced over at Harry's bed. "I guess when it broke his arm, Harry let the snitch go. So, Ginny and me stayed behind while everyone else left for the castle to look for the snitch. We didn't want to get in trouble with Madam Hooch for not returning all the balls."

Professor McGonagall didn't find the story amusing. Her lips were pressed in a very thin line.

"And, then," Sloper continued, "Malfoy came out onto the pitch. I don't know what he said to Ginny but she pointed her wand out at him and they stunned each other. At the same time, I guess. I didn't really see too well 'cause I was up in the air looking for the snitch." Sloper looked at Harry. "We didn't find the snitch, Harry. Sorry."

Harry thought it was a strange place to throw in an apology. "It's okay," he said. He wanted to kill Malfoy.

"Will they be all right?" Sloper asked.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. Move out of the way. I can wake up a stunned student in an instant." She went to Malfoy first and woke him up. Malfoy held his head in his hands.

"Fifty points from Slytherin," McGonagall said. "And detention with _me_, Mr. Malfoy tomorrow night at eight."

Malfoy looked like he understood well enough. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he passed out again.

"He'll be fine," Madam Pomfrey said. "He'll go in and out of consciousness for the next hour or so but then he'll wake fully up. That's how it is with stunning spells." She rolled her eyes. "I wish students would leave these kinds of spells to the adults so I wouldn't always have to clean up their messes."

McGonagall turned towards Ginny's bed, waiting for her to wake up and hand her the same speech she had just given Malfoy. Madam Pomfrey went to Ginny's side. Harry and Ron didn't see wake up.

Harry couldn't see the look on Madam Pomfrey's face – her back was to he and Ron – but he saw the look on McGonagall's face quite well.

"What's wrong?" McGonagall asked, her voice tight.

Harry and Ron both stood up.

Madam Pomfrey looked up at McGonagall. "Minerva," she said, "this girl wasn't stunned with any stunning spell I know of. Even one stunning spell to the most vulnerable of places, like the chest, a strong one, wouldn't keep them asleep after I tried to waken them."

"So, what's wrong with her?" Harry asked, moving quickly towards Ginny's bed.

"Get back in bed, Potter," McGonagall snapped at Harry. To Madam Pomfrey she looked concerned. "Well, can you wake her up?"

"Until I know what she was hit with, no."

**To Be Continued…**


	9. Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

"I'll kill him," Harry said, lunging for Malfoy's bed. Ron held him back by his arms.

"GET BACK INTO YOUR BED, POTTER!" McGonagall yelled. "When Malfoy finishes waking up we'll find out what spell he cast on Miss Weasley and we can wake her up, too. _Until then_ you will remain _in your bed_ before I have to take another fifty points from Gryffindor!"

Harry scowled but he returned to his bed. He laid there, twiddling his thumbs in disgust at the Slytherin a few beds away from him.

"As for you, Mr. Weasley, get back to Gryffindor Tower. There's still a bit of time before dinner," McGonagall told Ron. "And if you're thinking of protesting may I remind you of the cat you tried to transfigure in my class yesterday? It would do you some good to practice before you show up unable to do the homework assignment again in my class. I'm sure Miss Granger would be delighted to help you get the wand movements right, am I correct?"

"Yes, Professor," Ron grumbled. "I'll see you later, Harry."

* * *

Madam Pomfrey was satisfied with Harry's arm in time for him to make it to the last half of dinner. He sat between Ron and Lavender, piling his plate high with food.

"Did they wake Ginny up yet?" Ron asked anxiously.

"When I was leaving Malfoy was just waking up. I don't know what he hit Ginny with but I heard Madam Pomfrey yelling at him halfway down the corridor. Apparently it was something really, really bad."

"I hope it was bad enough to get him expelled," Ron murmured. He took a large spoonful of pudding and stuffed it in his mouth. Hermione rolled her eyes at his eating habits like she did at every other meal.

Harry felt a foot caress his shin. He looked across the table at Hermione who was busy reading a book.

"Oi, Hermione," Harry said, "that's my leg, not Ron's."

Hermione didn't look up from her book. "I don't know what you're talking about." But, Harry felt the foot immediately retract. Looking at Ron, he only assumed the foot went to his shin instead as a small smile crossed his face. It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes.

Harry continued to eat as students left the Great Hall. The trio was left sitting almost alone at Gryffindor table. Harry cleared his throat and leaned in close to his friends.

"I think I should tell you that Ginny and I found a way to defeat Voldemort." Harry launched into the story of the book and what Dumbledore and Lupin had said about it. "What do you think?"

"If you use it, does that mean You-Know-Who dies and you live?" Ron asked.

"No. The sacrifice could backfire and Voldemort could live. We both could die. Or, I live and Voldemort dies. I don't know."

"Who are you going to sacrifice yourself for? Can you even set up a sacrifice?"

"Oh, right, that. Well, I had this vision…" Harry began to tell them about his vision. Hermione looked thoughtful while Ron looked pissed.

"You're not going to put my sister in danger."

"Ron, shut up, it was a _vision_," Hermione said. "Harry had no control over what he saw. And I think it all makes a lot of sense. When Harry falls in love with Ginny and proves the love, then he can sacrifice himself for her and defeat Voldemort."

"You're going to fall in love with my sister?"

Harry shrugged. "I have no idea." He avoided Ron's eyes.

"Well, if you love her, then I guess it's not so bad," Ron said, struggling to get the words out. Hermione beamed at him. "But, how the hell do you prove love?"

"Why, he has to make love to her, of course," Hermione said, sipping pumpkin juice from her glass.

"WHAT!" Ron roared. "HE IS NOT SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER!"

"Oh, Ron, don't be ridiculous."

"That can't be what 'proven love' means," Ron said.

"I agree," Harry seconded – partly because he didn't want to get smacked by Ron for thinking about sleeping with his sister, and partly because he wasn't so sure it _was_ true.

"Well, can you think of anything else?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "No. But, I'm sure there is something else – some other way. Right?" He looked at Hermione, the expression on his face pleading with her to tell him there was another way with the brother of the girl he was suppose to "prove love" to sitting a foot away from him.

Hermione shrugged. "That's probably why Dumbledore and Lupin didn't tell you what it meant. They didn't want to feed any ideas into your head before you were ready for them."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "But, my vision took place during the Christmas holidays. I don't think I can fall in love and have sex in the next few months. Seems like rushing things a bit."

"I'll say!" Ron snapped. "There will be no shagging of my sister, do you hear me? I'll set the twins on you."

"Are you sure your vision was at the Christmas holiday?" Hermione asked.

"Well, we were at the Burrow and it was snowing outside."

"It could have been next year's Christmas holiday. Are you sure it was snowing?"

Harry nodded. "I think so. Or maybe there wasn't snow. Maybe there was a Christmas tree. I've dreamt about the vision so many times the original version has gotten a bit distorted."

Hermione looked at Ron. "Oh, don't look so mad. Your sister isn't going to stay a virgin forever, you know. And it's none of your business what she does." Hermione held up her hand. "I don't want to hear it, Ron. You didn't care if Harry shagged Cho—"

"Which I didn't," Harry interjected

"—fifth year so you shouldn't care if he shags Ginny."

Ron was still fuming as they left the Great Hall. He was going to have to have a talk with his little sister some time very, very soon.

* * *

In the common room later that night Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat on the couch. They talked about the upcoming Quidditch match – or, rather, Ron and Harry talked about it while Hermione pretended to be interested. Harry watched enviously as Ron played with Hermione's hair with one of his hands. He noticed Ron doing it so often he doubted whether or not Ron even realized he was doing it anymore. Hermione looked placid. She always looked that way any more when she was around Ron. It made Harry wish desperately that Ginny was there instead of in the hospital wing.

The portrait hole opened and McGonagall stepped through. The other students in the common room hushed immediately. McGonagall's eyes went around the room until she found Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"You three," she said, "come with me." She pointed at the trio and motioned with her long, bony index finger for them to follow her. As soon as they were out of the portrait hole the common room exploded with whispers and questions.

"Is Ginny all right?" Ron asked as the Fat Lady closed the portrait hole.

"I came to take you three up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey didn't want three visits but I explained to her that it was impossible to get one of you to do anything without the other two – as infuriating as that sometimes is. Come along."

The trio glanced at each other and smirked. They followed McGonagall through the corridors to the hospital wing. The last time McGonagall escorted any of them to the hospital wing it was to break the news to Harry and Ron that Hermione had been turned to stone. The memory brought a sinking feeling to Harry's stomach and he almost felt ill.

McGonagall only escorted them to the hospital door before retreating back to her office. The trio stepped through the large doorway and into a room with rows of white-sheeted beds. Harry's felt his chest constrict when he saw Ginny sitting up in bed talking with Madam Pomfrey. She turned her head and smiled when she saw Harry. Madam Pomfrey also turned her head, but she frowned.

"I see you all came. Have a seat. You may escort Miss Weasley back to Gryffindor Tower." Madam Pomfrey went into her office.

Instead of sitting, Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed to Ginny's bedside.

"What did Malfoy hit you with?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I thought he just stunned me but Madam Pomfrey made such a big deal about it that I asked her what the hell was going on. She wouldn't tell me."

"But, being stunned is a big deal," Hermione said.

"Not if you live with my brothers. I used to get stunned all the time when they were trying to hex each other. It doesn't really affect me much anymore. Malfoy's spell was just especially strong."

Harry didn't seem satisfied with her answer. "I saw Madam Pomfrey. She was _really_ upset that she couldn't wake you up."

Ginny shrugged. "I dunno. I don't really want to talk about it."

Madam Pomfrey came out of her office. "Off you go Miss Weasley."

Ginny jumped off the bed, looking relieved. "Thanks, Madam." She walked quickly to the door and left the hospital wing. In the corridor she looked at her brother and Hermione. "You guys go ahead. I need to talk to Harry."

A flash of anger crossed through Ron's eyes. He had clearly not forgotten Hermione's predictions of "proven love." Hermione took his arm and pulled him gently away from his sister.

"We'll see you back in the common room," she said.

Once Ron and Hermione were out of earshot Ginny looked up at Harry, her eyes wide and tearful.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, taking her hands.

"Something happened when Malfoy stunned me. Something really, really bad."

The concerned look on Harry's face deepened. "What?"

"I passed out but I felt like I was taken out of my body. I was in this forest and it was dark and I couldn't see anything but then all these Death Eaters came up to me and grabbed me. They took me to this cave in the woods with all these… dead spiders… or something. Ron would've busted a nut if he had seen all these huge spiders."

Harry frowned. His brow began to furrow.

"And then, _he_ appeared."

"Who?"

"Voldemort."

"Voldemort?"

Ginny nodded. "It was awful. I remembered him exactly. He and Tom had the same mannerisms and way of speech. He said he remembered me well, that I was still his little Ginevra."

Harry made a face. He had never felt the urge to kill Voldemort so strongly.

"He gave me a message – for you."

"What did he say?"

"He said Old Magic is for fools and then he told me he had a gift for you. When I woke up I felt this"—Ginny pulled something out of her jeans pocket—"in my pocket. I think it's for you."

Harry held out his hand and Ginny dropped a vial of blood into it.

* * *

Ron grumbled all the way back to the common room. "I bet they're going to the Room of Requirement right now."

"Oh, _honestly_, Ron."

"Well! They've been there before. And I know that's where Seamus and Lavender go off to every night."

"Not every night."

"Might as well be," Ron grumbled some more.

Hermione stood in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Hiccup Branch," Hermione said. The portrait swung open and Hermione climbed inside. Ron followed her, still complaining to himself.

"Why did you have to tell him he had to have sex with her?" Ron asked.

Hermione wheeled around on her heels and looked up at Ron who towered more than a foot above her. Even with the extreme height and weight difference between them, Hermione wasn't afraid of him and if anything the fear always rested in Ron's eyes whenever they quarreled.

"For heaven's sake, Ronald!"

"I wish you wouldn't say my name like that. You sound like my mother."

"I only said what I thought the book meant by proven love. You know Harry's thought about it before. You know _you've_ thought about it before. I'm sure you've both thought about it a thousand times with other girls. Lavender, Parvati, Cho, Fleur. They are somebody's sisters, too. So, when Harry thinks about _your_ sister it's no different." Before Ron could interject Hermione continued on. "Harry is decent. And your sister isn't easy. So, you need to _calm down_ before I get _really_ heated up. You're going to drive me mad."

"Ginny's my sister, not yours. You wouldn't understand."

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "It doesn't matter whether or not I understand. If the only way for Harry to defeat Voldemort is to _prove_ _his love_ for your sister, then—"

"I wish you'd just say what it is. Fucking. He's going to fuck my sister."

Hermione stomped her foot. "RONALD!"

The common room went silent and looked at the couple. Hermione blushed and pulled Ron to the corner, away from wondering ears.

"Don't say it like that!" she hissed. "Don't make it sound ugly."

"I'm not. I'm telling the truth."

"That is such an ugly word. Harry will not… you know… with your sister. He'll have sex with her. He'll _maybe_ have sex with her. Nothing is written in stone."

Ron shoved his hands deep in his pockets. He tapped his foot against the floor. Hermione put her hand on Ron's arm to try and calm him.

"Your temper is worse than Harry's." When Ron didn't comment, Hermione tried again. "I'm sorry I ever mentioned it. I was just trying to help Harry."

"You always try to help, don't you?"

"Well – I – yes. Why, what do you mean?"

"You're so clever in class so you think you're clever everywhere else. Well, sometimes you don't know everything."

"Ron!"

"You're not always Miss Know-It-All," Ron snapped venomously.

Hermione looked hurt. "Ron…"

"Just leave me alone."

"I only try to help because I care! Next time I won't help. I'll let you take your own notes in History of Magic and I'll let you write the wrong properties of Lambsglove in your Potions essay and I'll never try to come up with a _logical_ reason for passages in books you don't understand!"

"In books I don't understand? You always think I'm so dumb. Well, I'm Head Boy so I'm not _that_ stupid. I reckon I'm pretty smart."

"Of course you are – I didn't mean—"

"You still don't know everything."

"Ron!"

"I said leave me alone!"

Hermione reached out to him again, but Ron brushed her away and went to the boys' stairs and ran up them. He wanted to follow him but she could hear the door slam from all the way in the common room. When she turned around she saw that all the eyes of the other students were still on her.

"Don't you all have something _better_ to do?" she snapped.

Everyone looked away from her.

Frustrated and upset, Hermione walked the stairs up to her room. She looked at Ron's closed door and resisted the urge to knock.

* * *

"This is a vial of blood. What does it mean?"

Ginny shrugged. "How should I know? Let's go back to the common room, please. I'm tired."

Harry nodded, still looking at the vial in his hand. He had no idea what it meant. "Dumbledore seemed to think the book was the answer. I wonder what Voldemort knows that we don't."

Ginny shrugged again. "Maybe he's just trying to scare us."

"Maybe. I don't know, Gin. This vial of blood sends chills up my spine."

"How do you think I feel? It was in my back pocket all evening."

"I'm glad you're okay, though. I was really worried."

"Yeah?"

Harry nodded. "Oh, yeah. I wanted to kill Malfoy but McGonagall wouldn't let me. But, something interesting _did_ happen while you were in the hospital wing?"

"Oh, yeah, what's that?"

"I told Ron and Hermione about the book."

Ginny smiled. "Good! What'd they say?"

Harry hesitated. "Well, Ron didn't want me to put you in any danger. He got a little heated up about that."

"Typical Ron."

"But… not quite as heated up as he got when Hermione said that she thinks that 'proven love' is sex."

"Excuse me?"

"That's what she thinks. She didn't know any other explanation. She thinks that's why Lupin and Dumbledore wouldn't tell us what it was – so we wouldn't think about it until we were ready to think about it. Although, Hermione jumped the gun on that one and that's all I've been able to think about."

"Having sex with me?"

Harry laughed nervously. "No. About 'proven love' in general."

Ginny looked at him skeptically. She stopped walking, a few feet away from the portrait hole. "Harry… maybe she's right."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Well, if you're suppose to fight Voldemort at the holiday break then I guess we better get started."

"I'm sorry?"

"Get started."

Harry wasn't sure he understood. Surely, she wasn't suggesting… "Doesn't it seem a bit soon?"

"Don't be silly; I don't mean _tonight_." Ginny looped a finger through Harry's belt loop. "Other things have to come first. We can start there and see where it leads us, yeah?"

She looked so seductive, pouting her bottom lip out, batting her eyes. Harry couldn't resist her. He nodded and kissed her hungrily. She giggled against his mouth and pulled him by his belt loops towards the Room of Requirement.

* * *

In the common room Seamus, Dean, and Lavender were sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. Dean had bought some firewhiskey off a Ravenclaw sixth year earlier in the week and was waiting for the right time to get drunk. He offered to share with Seamus and Seamus insisted on sharing with Lavender. The three of them had waited until everyone had gone to bed before sneaking down to the common room to get smashed.

"All right, all right!" Lavender said. "I'm bored." She stood up and swayed on her feet. "Wow. I don't think I can walk." She practically fell to the floor, not bothering to make sure her skirt didn't fly up in the process.

"Does your girlfriend ever wear knickers?" Dean whispered to Seamus.

"Never."

"That's hot."

"What are you two whispering about?" Lavender demanded.

"Nothing," Seamus and Dean said in unison.

"I'm bored," Lavender said again. "Let's play a game."

"A game? I'm too drunk to hardly think," Dean said.

"We can play two on one," Lavender said.

Dean and Seamus exchanged looks.

"This is how we play…"

* * *

Standing outside of the portrait hole, hours after curfew and after having been caught by Mrs. Norris and given detention by Filch, Harry and Ginny were dawdling before giving the Fat Lady the password.

"You know how last time I said I loved your hands?" Harry asked. "This time I love your mouth." He smiled and kissed her mouth.

"Not nearly as much as I love your mouth," Ginny answered.

Harry looked at Ginny. His eyes went from lustful to something else entirely. Harry wrapped his arms around her and didn't so much hug her as hold her. Ginny held him back, not wanting to let go either, but knowing they should get inside before getting caught by other staff member and getting another detention.

"Harry…"

"I know, I know." Harry pulled away. "Hiccup Branch."

The portrait opened and Harry climbed through first. Ginny climbed in after him, bumping right into him as Harry hadn't walked all the way inside. She looked at him, wanting to know why he stopped _right_ in front of the portrait hole, but she saw him staring towards the fireplace and her eyes wandered to where he was looking.

Ginny covered her mouth with her hand and had to use Harry to steady herself to keep from falling over in laughter. Harry seemed to have much the same reaction. He looked at her, rolled his eyes, and nodded towards the stairs. She followed him up a ways, out of earshot of the common room.

"I'm going to give Seamus hell," Harry whispered.

"I can't believe they didn't hear us come in."

"There was an empty bottle of firewhiskey. I don't think they heard much of anything."

"Except Lavender's moans." Ginny laughed. She kissed Harry's mouth. "I'm going to sneak back through the common room and go to bed. I'm tired."

"G'night."

"Night."

* * *

Ron couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed. He felt hot so he threw his blankets off him. Then, he felt cold so he covered himself back up. He wanted to talk to Hermione. He wanted to apologize, to explain why he had gotten so upset with her. He needed to hug her, to touch her. He didn't want her mad at him, which he was sure she was furious. He had called her Miss Know-It-All in the past so much she usually ignored it. But, he had never uttered the phrase in such anger.

Deciding that he had had enough, Ron got out of bed and looked around his room. He found his wand and looked at the pile of dirty laundry stuffed in the corner of his room. Waving his wand several times, using the technique Hermione taught him, Ron transfigured all his dirty clothes into small rocks.

He left his room and got as close to Hermione's door as he thought he could without setting off any alarms. He tossed one of the rocks at her door. He waited and listened. Nothing. He tossed another one. Ron sat down on the ground, tossing the rocks every few moments, hoping she would come to the door. He was down to his last three rocks when her door flew open and she appeared wearing a sleeveless blue nightgown that reached the tops of her knees.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

Her hair was tangled and her eyes were red from sleep and even looking a bit like death Ron still wanted her.

"I'm sorry," Ron said.

"What?" Hermione looked at all the rocks in front of her door. "What is all this?"

"I transfigured my dirty laundry into rocks. I didn't know how else to get your attention. I didn't want to set any alarms off."

Hermione was too tired to completely understand. She bent down and picked up all the rocks.

"You have entirely too much dirty laundry, then."

"Yeah…"

Hermione walked over and poured the rocks into Ron's hand. She began to walk away, but Ron stopped her.

"Please, don't go."

"Why shouldn't I go? I'm tired. You woke me up."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be. I was having nice dreams."

"No," Ron said, shaking his head. "I mean, I'm sorry about before."

"I don't think I've ever heard you apologize before. Well, then, why are you sorry?"

Ron sighed. "Ginny's my little sister. I still think of her as eleven and laying in that chamber. She doesn't like boys and she certainly doesn't snog my best mate. It's hard to explain but it's a male, older brother thing. I know the others would be just as protective because we're _suppose_ to be."

"That's such a _male_ thing to think."

Ron shrugged. "Sit next to me?"

Hermione didn't move. She looked down at Ron. He looked like a kicked puppy, big sad eyes, frowning lips. Hermione groaned in frustration and sat down next to him.

"You are just so bloody smart all the time and when you don't understand how I'm feeling you reason your way out of it. I'm sorry I'm being unreasonable about Harry and Ginny, but she's my little sister. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I didn't do it intentionally."

"I know you didn't."

"I get a little jealous I think."

"I know you do."

Ron was taken aback for a moment, but he caught his footing and continued on with his speech. "I'm jealous that you're so clever and that even though I'm Head Boy – how that happened I have no idea – I still have to ask you for help."

"I don't mind helping you. And you never ask. That's why I always offer. I'm sorry, too, Ron. I won't bring up your sister and Harry again, all right?"

"All right, then." Ron felt a little bit better. "And I don't think you're a Miss Know-It-All."

"Yes, you do. It's all right. I suppose sometimes I can be pretentious and bossy."

Ron chuckled.

"Well, I suppose I should get to bed."

"Do you want to stay with me?" Ron asked.

"Why?"

Ron felt his ears get hot. "I liked sleeping next to you."

"We can't make a habit out of that."

"We don't have to. It can be a weekend thing. It's not like we have class tomorrow."

Hermione was torn. She really wanted to sleep next to Ron. His bed was so much warmer than hers. She knew, though, that it was against the rules. She didn't like having to break the rules more than she had to. Seeing the look on Ron's face – his eagerness – sealed the deal and she consented.

"But, only sleep. I'm tired."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, yeah, sure, of course."

They went into Ron's room and Hermione fell asleep with Ron's arms around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder.

* * *

The next morning Harry woke up in the dormitory. He thought back to the night before. He smiled at the thought of Ginny in the Room of Requirement, how he cried out her name at the peak of his pleasure and how she shuddered out her own climax against his tongue. Cho had taught him well in fifth year – not that he would ever tell Ginny where he learned it all. That mistletoe was the best thing that ever happened to him. Ginny had never liked Cho very much and Cho was never nice to Ginny after Ginny caught the snitch during Gryffindor's game against Ravenclaw when Ginny was a fourth year.

Harry's smile turned into a laugh, which he had to stifle by putting his pillow over his mouth to muffle the sounds. Seamus and Dean and Lavender all on the floor of the common room doing things Harry had only seen when accidentally walking in on Dudley watching a private movie collection. Seeing Dudley watching a movie like that had turned Harry's stomach. He preferred to think of the Dursleys as asexuals.

Harry threw open his bed curtains and looked at the other beds. Neville was already up and getting dressed. He nodded his Good Morning to Harry. Dean and Seamus were both on their own beds, still dressed in jeans and t-shirts from the night before, but it looked like they had just passed out. They hadn't even closed their bed curtains.

Harry, feeling rather devilish, walked over to their beds and yelled in each of their ears.

"Good morning!"

Dean and Seamus woke up grumbling and cranky.

"Sod off, Potter," Dean snapped. "Turn off the lights."

"That's the sun, sunshine," Harry replied. He laughed and went to put on his jeans and black sweatshirt. "Feeling all right?"

"I hate you," Seamus said. "Let me sleep."

"But, it's such a lovely morning!"

Neville, now fully dressed and ready to go to breakfast, hung around, interested in what Harry was doing. He looked slightly confused but the wheels in his head were turning.

"Looks like hangovers," Neville mused.

"Right you are!" Harry answered.

Seamus sat up in his bed, dried drool staining his cheek. "What would you know about it?"

"Well," Harry said, "I know that last night I came back to the common room at about three in the morning…" Harry had to stop for a moment to laugh out loud. He collected himself and continued. "And I found an empty bottle of firewhiskey and two seventh year Gryffindor boys kissing very enthusiastically on a very… happy looking seventh year girl."

Neville looked as if he were about to fall over from shock. His feelings towards the matter were turning from confusion to disgust.

"I'm going to breakfast," Neville said. "I don't know how much more I can listen to. My grams would die if she heard such things."

Harry laughed. Seamus looked shocked and Dean just held his head.

"I don't remember any such thing," Dean said.

"Liar."

Harry tied up his sneakers.

Dean stood up. "I swear to god if you go around spreading rumors I will put a fucking hex on you."

"For fuck's sake calm down. I won't say anything." Harry walked towards the door. He stopped and turned his head around. "But, I'm not the only one who saw. Cheerio!" Harry walked out the door and whistled as he walked down the stairs to the common room.

Hermione and Ron, both freshly showered, Ron's hair still wet, were waiting for Harry to come down the stairs.

"Oh, good," Harry said. "I have something to tell you."

"About Seamus, Lavender, and Dean?" Ron asked. "We already heard."

"Oh, did Neville tell you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, we heard Lavender tell Parvati."

"Well, I _saw_ it," Harry said. "Bloody disgusting. Anyway, no, I have something else to tell you. Here." Harry fished around in his pocket for the vial. He handed it to Hermione. "Ginny said she had her own vision of sorts with Voldemort in it. When she woke up she had that in her pocket. She said Voldemort gave it to her as a gift for me. He also told her that Old Magic was for fools."

"Why'd You-Know-Who give you a thing of blood?" Ron asked.

"No idea."

"Ginny said she had a vision but she woke up with _this_?"

Harry nodded.

"That's really weird. I have no idea how to explain how that could happen."

"Maybe Voldemort Apparated her out of the pitch and she wasn't really passed out," Ron suggested.

"How many times do I have to tell you? You can not Apparate to, from, or inside Hogwarts. When are you going to read _Hogwarts, A History_?"

"There's no point in me reading it. You've bloodied memorized it."

Hermione ignored him and handed the vial back to Harry. "Whose blood is it?"

"I don't know."

"Is it his?"

"I don't know."

"Is it yours?"

"I don't…" Harry stopped. "Wait. In fourth year when Voldemort came back the Death Eaters took blood from me. They put it in a cauldron, I think, as part of some spell to bring Voldemort back."

"I don't remember you ever telling us that," Ron said.

"I didn't remember it until just now. I was more focused on Cedric, I guess."

"Harry… That means Voldemort's got some of your blood running through him. Old Magic might _be_ for fools if he's got some of you flowing through him. You are now more connected to him than ever before."

"But, it can't be possible to just not destroy him."

Hermione shrugged.

"The prophecy said that we both couldn't live – one of us would have to die. If Voldemort can't be beat then that means I'll be the one to die."

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances.

"No, that book has to be right. That sacrifice has to work. If I die I have to take Voldemort with me. I can't have him killing anyone else in my life."

Neither Hermione nor Ron knew what to say.

"Do you think it might be my blood?"

"It might be his way of reminding you that you're connected in more ways than just your scar," Hermione said.

Just, then, before Harry could reply, the intercom came on, blasting Professor McGonagall's voice for all the school to hear.

"All students must report to the Great Hall immediately. I repeat. All students must report to the Great Hall immediately."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged looks. Ron and Hermione made way to the portrait hole.

"Are you coming?" Ron asked.

"I'm gonna wait for Ginny. I'll see you guys there. Save me a seat."

Harry didn't have to wait long before a tired looking Ginny came down the stairs. She yawned and gave him a tight hug. They walked through the portrait hole and down to the Great Hall. Breakfast was never busy on the weekends. Half of the students slept in and skipped breakfast, not waking until lunchtime anyway. Today, though, the entire Hall was filled with students talking nosily to one another.

Harry and Ginny made their way to the seats saved across from Ron and Hermione. They sat down. Ginny glanced to her left and gave a tired looking Lavender an amused look.

Once all the students were in the Great Hall, Dumbledore stood up and raised his hands for silence. Everyone immediately stopped talking.

"I have a most unfortunate announcement to make this morning. It is important that it be said as soon as possible before students find out for themselves." Dumbledore glanced at the trio. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, wondering why Dumbledore was giving them looks. They both shrugged.

"Last night it was brought to our attention that there was a disturbance in the Forbidden Forest resulting in the death of several large, special-breed spiders."

Harry felt Ginny tense up next to him. She looked back to him, confusion in her eyes. Harry reached over and took her hand in his.

"After investigation it was found that…" Dumbledore took in a large breath, obviously struggling through his speech. "It was found that our Care of Magical Creatures teacher had been taken by Lord Voldemort and his blood was spilt. Beginning tomorrow all of Hagrid's classes will be canceled until a permanent replacement can be found. Hagrid remains at St. Mungo's. I will be the first to alert all of you of any changes in his condition, but as of right now…"

Harry didn't hear the rest of Dumbledore's speech. He leaned in closer to Ron and Hermione.

"That vial wasn't my blood. It's Hagrid's. I know it is."

Hermione nodded, agreeing.

"Why would Voldemort give me a vial of Hagrid's blood?" Ginny whispered.

"I don't know," Harry answered truthfully. "To mock me? To show me how helpless I am sitting here at school while he tries to kill more people I care about?"

"Maybe he's trying to put a dent in the Order," Hermione suggested.

Food appeared on the table but no one felt like eating. Harry looked at his empty plate and pushed it away. He looked over at the Slytherin table and couldn't help but see the smug look on Malfoy's face.

Harry's hatred towards Voldemort rose even higher. Between what had happened to Ginny and then Hagrid, Harry had never felt the need to battle Voldemort more than he did right then. He knew what he had to do. He had to kill Voldemort – and if he had to die while doing so, then so be it!

* * *

To Be Continued… 


	10. Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

"We need to go somewhere and talk," Hermione said.

Harry agreed. "Let's go to the third floor corridor. Fluffy's gone but it's still deserted."

The four of them, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, retreated from the Great Hall and went up the moving staircase to the third floor, careful not to be seen as they didn't want to be disturbed. They sat down in a circle on the cold stone floor, facing each other, sitting crossed legged.

"A lot's happened this year," Hermione said. "And we need to sort through it all. First of all, the book."

Ginny's ears perked up.

"Second of all, Voldemort giving Ginny a vial of blood. Third of all, Hagrid." Hermione cleared her throat. "Let's start with the book."

"Well," Harry said, "Lupin and Dumbledore both thought the book was the answer. That Old Magic is the way to defeat Voldemort. Dark Wizards don't understand love so when someone sacrifices themselves it creates a force so strong that the wizard cannot penetrate it and the spell backfires and kills them. It's like a shield."

"Right. How did Voldemort find out that you were going to use Old Magic?" Ron asked.

"Maybe he can still get into my head," Harry said.

"But, aren't you doing Occlumency?"

Harry nodded. "Yes… but… it's hard. I still haven't mastered it."

Hermione seemed skeptical. "Well, let's keep that question open. Now, Ginny, what happened when you were stunned by Malfoy?"

"Oh, well, I sent a stunning spell right at Malfoy because he was making fun of my family."

"Really?" Harry hadn't heard this before.

Ginny nodded. "You know, stuff about us being poor. I usually don't listen to him but he broke your arm so it got me really riled up so I threw a hex at him. I guess he threw one back because I saw a red spell coming straight for me. I know I fell off my broom – but I was only a couple feet from the ground anyway. Then, like I told Harry, I was in the middle of the forest and Death Eaters came and got me and took me to this old cave that was filled with giant spiders that were all dead."

Ron shuddered.

"Then, Voldemort showed up and gave me that vial of blood and said it was a gift for Harry. Oh! And he said Old Magic was for fools."

"Do you remember leaving the cave?" Hermione inquired.

Ginny shook her head. "I remember waking up in the hospital wing sitting on that vial in my back pocket. When you lot came to escort me back to Gryffindor, that's when I gave it to Harry."

"How do you think it got into her pocket?" Ron asked Hermione. "Can you Apparate things into Hogwarts?"

"I don't think it was Apparated. And I don't think you had a vision, Ginny. How long were you in the hospital wing, Harry, before they brought Ginny in?"

"Umm…" Harry looked at Ron who shrugged. "An hour, maybe?"

"So, someone could have taken Ginny into the Forbidden Forest and left her for the Death Eaters to pick up and take her to Voldemort. She went to Aragog's cave—"

"_Aragog's_ cave?" Ron exclaimed. He gulped.

"Well, it makes sense doesn't it? Dumbledore said that the special-breed spiders were all dead, right? Anyway," Hermione continued, "so Voldemort gave her that vial and stunned her again and someone took her back to school."

"What happened to Malfoy all this time?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, he was definitely stunned," Ron said. "I mean, when he came into the hospital wing it was obvious."

"We're forgetting someone," Ginny said quietly.

Harry looked at her. "Who?"

"Sloper. He was with me to look for the snitch. He could have let the Death Eaters in or taken me to the Forbidden Forest. Malfoy never would have known because he was stunned. That's probably why I couldn't wake up in the hospital wing. Malfoy was telling the truth – he used a normal stunning spell on me."

"But Voldemort's was stronger, that's why they couldn't wake you up," Harry concluded.

Ginny nodded.

"But, Sloper's a Gryffindor!" Ron cried. "He wouldn't turn on his teammates and housemates would he?"

"Wormtail was a Gryffindor," Hermione pointed out.

Ron looked a bit defeated. "Oh, yeah."

"That still doesn't explain what the vial of blood is," Hermione said. "I suggest we give it to someone who might be able to tell us."

"Like who?" Ginny asked.

"I say we go to Lupin first," Harry said. "He'll tell us what we need to do with it. I still say it's Hagrid's blood though. If Voldemort tried to kill Hagrid I'm sure he _did_ spill his blood. It's hard to kill giants with the killing curse. They're so big and their skin is so thick that sometimes the spells really just repel off of them."

"Where'd you learn that?" Ron asked.

"Hermione."

Hermione blushed.

"Wow, you really do know everything," Ginny said.

"No… not _quite_ everything."

"That still leaves what we should do about Sloper," Ron said. "I say we kill him."

"Oh, Ron, don't be ridiculous. You can't kill anybody."

"You always ruin my fun, Hermione."

"We should tell Lupin," Harry said. "Or McGonagall. She's a part of the Order. She'd want to know if there's a Death Eater in her House."

"Do we really know if Sloper's a Death Eater?" Ginny asked.

"No," Hermione answered, "so we can't go jumping to any conclusions. We just have to point out the facts and figure things out. But… as much as I hate to say it… Sloper looks good for the act against Ginny."

"I still maintain that we kill him," Ron said.

"Oh, Ron, don't—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ron finished for her. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"He's on the Quidditch team. It kind of scares me to think Jack's the one who controls where those bludgers go. Andrew Kirke is all right but if Sloper's in with Voldemort I don't want to play next to him. I really don't."

Harry watched Ginny as she wrung her hands together.

"I agree with Ginny," Ron said. "You're captain, Harry, kick him off."

"I can't just kick him off without a reason."

"Being a Death Eater isn't a reason?"

Hermione sighed loudly. "We don't _know_ if he's a Death Eater. Harry, why don't you and Ginny go talk to Lupin about that blood and Ron and I'll go talk to Professor McGonagall about Jack Sloper."

Harry and Ginny nodded. They got up and walked out of the third floor corridor and went through the staircases to Lupin's office. Harry knocked on the door. He tried again a minute later when there was no answer.

A very tired, disheveled looking professor opened his door, tying a robe over his faded pajamas. He yawned and leaned against the doorframe.

"Mmm, Harry, Ginny. Hello. Come to say hello to Tonks, then, have you?"

Harry and Ginny exchanged glances.

"Actually, Professor… we came to ask you something."

Lupin yawned again. "What's that?"

"Wait, Professor, have you heard about Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yes, I've known about that since last night. I'm terribly sorry. Is that what you came to talk about?"

"Sort of. Can we come in?"

Lupin stood aside and closed the door behind Harry and Ginny. They took a seat in the chairs in front of Lupin's desk. Lupin sat down behind his desk and folded his hands together in his lap. He leaned back in his chair.

"So, what's up?" he asked.

Harry handed Lupin the vial of blood. "Voldemort gave Ginny this and we're not sure what it is. We're pretty sure it's blood; we just don't know whose."

"I'm sorry, what? Voldemort gave this to you?" Lupin asked Ginny.

"And when did you see Voldemort?"

"Last night."

* * *

After hearing a knock, McGonagall opened her office door. She looked at Ron and Hermione and frowned.

"You heard the Headmaster. When we know more about Hagrid we'll let you know."

"Actually, Professor," Hermione said, "this isn't about Hagrid."

Professor McGonagall looked slightly amused. "Oh, really? I don't suppose it's about the mammal transfiguration spells either?"

"Well, no, not exactly."

"I didn't think so. Ohh, all right, come in, but make it quick. I'm leaving for St. Mungo's in an hour and I must be back in time to finish grading your essays." McGonagall looked at Ron. "I haven't gotten to yours yet. I'm looking forward to seeing how if you make the exact points Miss Granger did. Sometimes it would seem as if the two of you turn in almost the same essay."

Hermione blushed. "We'll make it as fast as we can." She and Ron entered McGonagall's large office. There was only one extra chair so Hermione conjured up another one for herself and sat down.

"What is it, then?"

"When Ginny was stunned yesterday by Malfoy she met Voldemort."

McGonagall didn't say anything, but her eyebrows did fly up in question.

Hermione went on. "She said she woke up in a forest and was taken to a cave by Death Eaters and the cave was filled with giant dead spiders."

Ron shuddered. The word "spider" made his stomach turn.

"She said she met Voldemort there and he gave her a vial of blood to give to Harry. When she woke up in the hospital wing the vial was in her back pocket. She's talking to Lupin now about it."

"I see."

"The reason we came to you is that there was enough time between the time Ginny was left on the pitch to when she actually arrived in the hospital wing for this to all have happened. And, since Malfoy was stunned, we think that Sloper was the one who took her into the Forbidden Forest."

"Jack Sloper?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"We think he might be a Death Eater," Ron added. "And seeing as how you're the head of Gryffindor we thought you might like to know."

"You don't have proof of this, though, do you?" McGonagall asked.

Hermione shook her head. "But, it makes sense. Ginny couldn't have gotten that vial in the back of her jeans if someone hadn't given it to her. It couldn't have just appeared there. There's too much magic surrounding Hogwarts for someone to Apparate a vial of blood. Right?"

McGonagall nodded. "It would be impossible. Even Lord Voldemort himself cannot Apparate onto the grounds of Hogwarts."

"Professor, Sloper being in with Voldemort is the only explanation there is for how Ginny got to the Forest. Sloper was never stunned."

McGonagall took in a deep breath. "I'll examine Mr. Sloper's arms later today with Albus. We'll see if he has the Dark Mark."

"And if he does?" Ron asked.

"And if he does, Mr. Weasley, the Headmaster and I will take the appropriate action. In the meantime neither of you shall speak a word of this. Do you understand? I don't need this school in any more outrage than it already is about Hagrid. Go on, now, work on your transfiguration or… something."

Ron and Hermione left McGonagall's office. Ron reached for Hermione's hand but she jumped back, clearly startled.

"Are you all right?"

"I was just thinking about Hagrid. I'm a bit worried about him." She continued walking down the hall.

"We all are."

"I wish it were next summer and we were through with Hogwarts and Voldemort was finally gone and we could go on living without wards around our houses or secret organizations."

"Yeah, then you could get your job at the Ministry and Harry and I could go on to Auror training."

"If Harry makes it," Hermione whispered.

"What?"

"Don't pretend, Ron. We had this conversation over the summer. We've been programmed to think Harry might not live through this. He might have been born to die."

"Stop it."

"And you're always with him, you know. Except fourth year but you would've followed him through that portkey if you had the option. If Harry dies you might, too."

"Hermione, stop it."

"And, if that's the case I could die. Or, if I didn't how could I get on without you guys…"

"_Stop. It._ You're going to make yourself mental if you think like this." Ron watched his girlfriend. She stopped walking a few feet behind him. He turned around and looked at her. Her arms were crossed over her jumper and she was biting her bottom lip. "Are you crying?"

Hermione turned away from him, but Ron knew better than let her cry alone. She had been trying to subtly teach him and Harry how to expand their emotional ranges from teaspoons to whole buckets since the incident with Cho crying on Harry's shoulder and Harry not having the faintest idea what to do.

Hermione leaned against a bit of stone wall between two portraits. She sighed, her back to Ron. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.

"I know you think about him dying, too."

"I have before."

"Do you think that you might die along side him?"

"I… no… I mean, I have, but not really."

Hermione sighed. A few tears still streaming down her face.

A few Slytherins, including Theodore Nott and Blaise Zambini, came around the corner and laughed at Ron and Hermione.

"Ohhhhh! Kissy! Kissy!" one of them said.

"Move along!" Ron snapped. "Before we give you detention!"

The Slytherins were undaunted but nevertheless moved on.

"Maybe we should move out of the hallway," Hermione suggested. Ron loosened his grip on her as they headed back to the common room. Hermione muttered the password and climbed through the portrait hole in front of Ron. The common room was filled but Hermione passed by all the students and walked to the boys' dormitory stairs.

"They're always going off together up those stairs," Parvati said, not even attempting to lower her voice. She sat with Parvati, Lavender, Seamus, and Dean at a table near the stairs.

"If Ron's anything like his brother I'd snog him, too," Lavender said absentmindedly.

Seamus, obviously put out by Lavender's statement, quickly replied, "he's lucky to get a snog anywhere."

Hermione looked at Ron and opened her mouth to say something to Seamus, but Ron beat her to it.

"Well, Seamus, I suppose I _am_ lucky to get a snog every once in a while, but you know, however _jealous_ you are that your girlfriend wants to snog me that still doesn't give you the excuse of snogging on a boy. Right, _Dean_?" Ron looked back and forth between Seamus and Dean.

"I didn't – we didn't – never – what?" Seamus was a loss for words. He looked at Lavender sharply as several owners of eavesdropping ears sniggered around them. "Why do you have to have such a big mouth?"

"I never told anyone you snogged Dean."

"Right, well, now everyone thinks I kiss boys."

Parvati giggled. "Well, you were both on _her_ at the same time. I know how those things work."

"For fuck's sake, Parvati, we didn't snog!"

Hermione and Ron left Seamus to argue with Parvati and Lavender. She let Ron open the door to his room and she stepped inside, resisting the urge to chastise him for never cleaning up after himself. His bed was unmade and his desk was cluttered and the pile of rocks was once again a pile of laundry in the corner. Hermione laid down on Ron's bed, hugging one of his thick blankets to her chest. She closed her eyes. Ron kicked off his shoes and laid down beside her.

"You're not still crying, are you?"

"No."

"What brought all that on?"

"I don't know. I was thinking about what if Sloper really is a Death Eater and he could kill Harry or something. I don't know. I was being silly. Still, I don't like thinking of Harry dying while fighting Voldemort and I don't like thinking of you dying either because you're too stubborn not to follow him."

"I wouldn't _follow_ him."

"Well, fight by his side. Whatever. You know what I'm saying, Ron!"

"I know." Ron put his arms around Hermione's waist and pulled her to him, her back pressed firmly against his chest. "So, don't think about such things."

"I can't help it. When I go to sleep at night that's what I think about. Lately, anyway."

Ron carefully undid the button of Hermione's jeans. He even more carefully unzipped them while she continued to talk.

"Then, I start thinking about my parents. They don't know any magic. They can't fight if Death Eaters come to their house. Voldemort knows I'm close to Harry. He could come after my parents. After all, he came after one of _your_ parents."

Ron ran his fingers along the top of Hermione's knickers. Ah, satiny fabric today, not cotton.

"I don't know what I'd do if something happened to my parents, either. It's all really scary. It's like this war is going on and no one really knows about it. Do wizards in America know? The Muggle world has no idea what's going on. It's like a huge secret and if I die no one will hear about it. Ron – _what are you doing_?"

Ron dipped his fingers inside of her knickers and parted her skin to feel inside of her. He kissed the side of her neck. Hermione arched against him involuntarily.

"What are you doing?" she asked again, her voice several notches lower.

"Just trying to make you forget all about Voldemort."

"Oh…"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"I… Oh…"

"Hermione… tell me what to do."

When Hermione didn't answer Ron turned her head towards him with his free hand, making her look at him.

"Please? Tell me where to touch you."

"Ron, I don't think…"

"Hermione, _please_. I don't know what's a good touch and what's not for you."

Hermione turned her head away and closed her eyes. Her cheeks had blushed a bright red.

"I won't stop until you tell me."

"Up."

Ron moved his fingers up.

"Left."

Ron moved his fingers left.

"Other left."

Ron moved his fingers to the correct left.

"Not so hard."

Ron eased up.

"There."

Ron sucked on the bend of Hermione's neck at the place right before it became shoulder. He listened to the sounds she made in the back of her throat – things that sounded like she was trying to suppress small moans. She was radiating heat into his hand. Ron had no _real_ idea about how girls worked down there but he was sure he had done something right when he felt her muscles all around his fingers to clench up and her body shudder against him and when he heard her whisper "_Ron_" sharply, he knew he had done something right. Hermione reached down and pulled his hand out of her knickers. She was breathing heavily.

"Are you all right?"

"Bit dizzy."

"Oh. Well… was that all right?"

"That was all right."

"Was it good?"

Hermione laughed. "It was lovely."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Ron's smile was huge. He turned Hermione onto her back and shifted his weight to rest partially on her as he bent down to kiss her mouth enthusiastically. He pulled away and moved so that he could fold his hands on her stomach, right under her breasts, and rest his head on his hands, looking up at Hermione. She peered down at him. She took two of Ron's pillows and placed them behind her head so she could look at Ron without having to crane her neck down so much.

"You look happy," Hermione mused.

Ron nodded. "That was the _coolest_ thing I've _ever_ done in my entire life. So far anyway."

Hermione sniggered.

Ron's smile faded a bit. "I'm serious."

Hermione reached down and smoothed out his long hair with her hand. She thought he looked adorable – his face so happy and eager: it had the boyish charm of a first year wanting to impress the cool sixth and seventh years.

"Were you serious when you told me over the summer at the Burrow that you had never kissed another girl?"

Ron blushed. He looked away. "Yes. Why?"

"Surprised is all. I thought you would have."

"And not tell you about it?"

"I didn't think you would talk to me about those sorts of things."

Ron shrugged. "When would I have kissed another girl? What girls do I spend time with? I've been around you every bloody day since middle of first term first year."

"I don't know. Aren't there girls who live around the Burrow? Or in the village of Ottery St. Catchpole?"

"Have you ever seen any?"

"No."

"Neither have I." Ron sighed. "I'm not Harry. I don't have some famous past that girls fawn over. I'm poor and I have ridiculous hair and everyone notices my brothers."

"I didn't."

"You're the only one."

"Lavender notices you."

Ron laughed. "Lavender notices me because she thinks my anatomy is like George's."

"Is it?"

"I… have no idea. I… What kind of question is that, Hermione!"

"Sorry. I don't care if your parents are poor and I like your hair and I think your brothers are lovely but I've never fancied any of them."

"Well, what about you?"

"Pardon?"

"You never snogged Vicky?"

"Ho ho," Hermione said. "Vicky again?" Hermione breathed in deeply. She shook her head slowly. "Well, he kissed me on the cheek once. Before he left after fourth year. We started writing. I didn't visit him, though. I was going to but…"

"But?"

"But I went and stayed at Grimmauld Place instead."

"With me."

"Yes."

"And I had no idea."

"You were oblivious. You should thank Fred and George. I don't think you would have told me if they hadn't played that dirty trick."

"Maybe." Ron shrugged.

"You know, Ron, we all have our insecurities. You think no one could like you because you're poor and you're not as good as your brothers – even though I personally think that's bullocks. But, I'm insecure, too, about some things. And it's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"_You_ have insecurities?"

"Sure."

"Like what?"

Hermione thought a moment. "Well, I suppose I always thought you wouldn't fancy me because I was too bossy and was made of books and lived in the library. I'm not like Lavender – I don't know how to pretend to be completely unclever."

"Well, I'm crazy about you so you can shove all those insecurities away." Ron moved his hands and laid his head down directly on Hermione's chest. He listened to her heart beat. "I want to snog and touch you all the time. You make me mad."

Hermione blushed. "I'm good for other things than just snogging, you know."

"Yeah. I like talking to you."

"Do you?" asked Hermione.

"It's different than talking to Harry. It's different than how we used to be, but good different. Although we do still bicker."

"You do it on purpose."

"You're funny when you're angry."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron's weight on her felt reassuring. It made her feel warm, secure even. Whenever she thought about Ron holding her or hugging her she had to close her eyes and steady her breathing because her heart would flutter inside of her chest. The thought of him dying along side Harry made her chest hurt. He was the only person she felt completely comfortable letting all her insecurities hang out in front of. If he wasn't careful he was going to make her fall in love with him.

"I'm hungry," Ron said. "Is it time for lunch yet?"

"It's half noon I think."

"Oh, good! Want to go to the Great Hall?"

Hermione smiled. "Sure, but, uh, Ron? Shouldn't you wash your hands before you eat?"

* * *

Harry and Ginny were already in the Great Hall when Ron and Hermione entered, holding hands. They sat in the seats directly across from Harry and Ginny. Ron piled his plate with sandwiches while Hermione spooned out a large quantity of fruit onto hers.

"What did McGonagall say?" Harry asked.

"She's going to talk to Sloper in Dumbledore's office some time today. She wouldn't say what would happen if he ends up being in league with You-Know-Who," answered Hermione. "What did Lupin say?"

"Well, he looked at the vial and he said the blood wasn't thick enough to be giant's blood."

"Well, Hagrid's only half," Ron pointed out.

"Lupin said that didn't matter," Ginny said. "We asked that, too."

"Lupin thinks it's my blood after all." Harry tore off the crust of his turkey sandwich. "He reckons Voldemort is trying to tell me something about my blood. Although, I don't know what – I mean, besides the fact that Voldemort himself has some of my blood in him."

"But, you don't have any of his, do you?" asked Ron.

"I don't think so," Harry replied. "I have really no idea. This whole thing is driving me mad. I just wish I knew if the sacrifice will work and when Voldemort is going to strike and whether or not I should make a will out so I can figure out who inherits my bloody Firebolt." Harry threw his sandwich down on his plate. "I'm not hungry anymore."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered sadly.

"Ginny can have the Firebolt if I can have all the gold in your Gringott's vault."

Harry sniggered, half amused, half disgusted.

"Ron, shut up," Ginny said. She whispered something into Harry's ear. When Harry nodded she got up from the table and left the Great Hall.

"Where's she going?" Ron asked, watching his sister leave.

"Hermione, do you think you could help us look in the library for more books? Maybe there's another answer. Something else I can try to beat him."

"Of course I will, Harry."

"I'd kind of like it you could also figure out _exactly_ what is meant by proven love in case that particular love sacrifice is the only answer we can find." Harry said it without looking at Ron. "I don't fancy having the twins stuck on me."

Ron laughed out loud, imagining Fred and George armed with Dungbombs coming to beat Harry up with gags and pranks.

"Sorry," he mumbled when Hermione shot him a look. "Harry, if you have sex with my sister _please_ don't let me find out about it. I'm serious. I don't want to know."

Harry looked at Ron. He felt amused.

Ron finished eating his sandwich and reached for another one. Ginny came back into the Great Hall with two cloaks in her hands. She handed one to Harry.

"Where are you off to?" Hermione asked.

"For a walk," Harry answered.

"In this cold? You're mental."

"Thanks, Ron. I'll see you guys at dinner."

Harry and Ginny walked out of the Great Hall. They left the castle and walked onto the grass. Harry pulled his cloak closer around him. His long sleeve t-shirt and thick woolen jumper that Mrs. Weasley knitted for him weren't faring very well against the cold.

"I think I remember a warming charm," Ginny said, reaching into her jeans for her wand. "Umm… I hope this doesn't hurt." Ginny waved her wand and mutter and incantation Harry had never heard before. He instantly felt warmth against his skin and he stopped shivering. "Now, do the same thing to me," Ginny told him. Harry did.

"Better," he said. He took Ginny's hand and they walked towards the lake. Harry sat down on the rocky ground in front of it. Ginny sat next to him. Harry picked up a handful of the smaller rocks and one by one threw them into the lake.

"I don't want you to give me your Firebolt," Ginny said.

"Not good enough for you?"

"No, because next year if I have to be seeker for Gryffindor again it's going to be because you've left school not because you've died. And I'll ride my Cleansweep. Or I'll steal Ron's Cleansweep. It's loads faster than mine."

"I can't make any promises, Ginny."

They sat in silence for a while, the wind nipping at their cheeks but neither of them feeling it. Ginny took Harry's hand in hers. His other hand dropped the remaining rocks back on the ground.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with all my problems."

"You didn't ask to be the Boy Who Lived."

"I didn't ask to be the Boy Who Lived but Died Anyway either."

"Harry, I wish you'd stop talking like that. Really."

Harry didn't say anything else.

"I don't mind it."

"Don't mind what?"

"Your problems. I don't have many myself and I've always fancied myself a fixer of problems. I listen well. I'm really good at observing and knowing things about people. I'm not always good with Charms but people I know."

"I've noticed. You always seem to know what I'm thinking or what I want to hear to make me feel better."

Ginny nodded. "It comes from living in a house of six brothers who ignore you most of the time. They say things because they assume you don't hear them. And, then, well…" Ginny chuckled. "Well, let's just say I've learned a lot about boys from boys themselves. I've grown accustomed to how boys deal with feelings and being sad and angry and the like. The whole lot of you has problems dealing with your emotions. And now that I know how you deal with them I know how to make them better."

"You're amazing."

"I think that's why Fred and George's girlfriends owl me so often. When they don't understand the twins they know I will."

"I bet the twins are a handful for Alicia and Angelina."

"Oh," said Ginny, "well, it's no longer Alicia. George is now going out with Marietta Edgecombe."

"The girl who snitched?"

Ginny nodded. "Yeah. Alicia's back with Oliver."

"But Fred's still with Angelina?"

"Fred's _always_ with Angelina. Anyway, yes, the twins are a handful. Right now Angelina and Fred are in a tiff because Fred spends more time at the joke shop than he does with her. She's says she's going to stop shagging him if he doesn't get his priorities straight. He usually works six days a week but she said he's working every single day, open until close, and even Lee's complaining because Fred's taking away some of his hours."

Harry liked it when Ginny talked about her family. It took his mind off of his own life. There were so many Weasley and they were all so much older that it gave Harry hope for the future.

"Why's Fred working so much?"

"Why, he's saving up money."

"For?"

"A ring," replied Ginny with a large smile.

"Seriously?"

"He's only told me and George. He told me so that I could subtly tell Angelina everything will be okay soon and he told George because, well, I suppose he tells George just about everything. They are best mates after all."

"How'd George take the news?"

"He went off his rocker. Thinks Fred's barmy for thinking of getting married and moving out of their flat. Fred was never as wild as George. He found Angelina and it's always been Angelina. George bonks just about every girl he can. Well, obviously, seeing as how he's shagged Lavender. George lives the high life of a bachelor. Fred's ready to give it up. I daresay when Fred asks Angelina the whole event will be a blinding success. She's out of her mind in love with him."

"That must be nice," Harry said, suddenly feeling a bit sad again.

"Oh, Harry. You'll get married. You'll have kids with ridiculously messy hair – hey, maybe their hair'll even be red!"

"Oh?"

"Because of your mother," Ginny said. "She was a red head, wasn't she? Like me."

"Oh."

"And you'll teach them Quidditch and they'll all want to be on the House team, too, because they'll want to be Seeker just like you. They'll want to hear stories about how you met their mum and they'll be _best_ mates with Ron's kids."

"God, that's a scary thought."

"Ron with kids?"

"A bunch of little boys with red hair running around knocking things over."

Ginny laughed. "Yeah. But, he'll love it." Ginny looked at Harry. "And so will you."

"It's a right nice thought."

"It'll happen."

Harry remained quiet.

"Don't be so bloody pessimistic all the ruddy time!"

"Come here." Harry pulled Ginny to him and they toppled over in the grass.

"You're not going to die, Harry."

"And how do you know?"

Ginny thought for a moment. "I just _know_. Something'll happen with Voldemort but it'll all be all right. It has to be."

"POTTER!"

Harry sat up immediately, his head whipping around upon hearing his voice being shouted. He saw Professor McGonagall standing atop of the hill, looking rather cross. Harry got up and walked with Ginny to where their professor was standing.

"All right, there, Professor?" Ginny asked.

"I've already gathered Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"To see Dumbledore about Jack Sloper."

* * *

To Be Continued… 


	11. Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dumbledore cleared his throat. He looked very old and very tired.

"Yes. I am afraid Jack Sloper's arm bore the Dark Mark."

Harry put his head in his hands. Ron groaned. Hermione rolled her eyes. Ginny frowned.

"I am afraid that his removal from the school is imminent. I am telling you since you brought the matter to our attention. Harry"—Harry looked up—"I'm afraid you'll be looking for another Beater. Not a word of this can be spread. The school must not know what is going on. I do not need a thousand frightened students on my hands. I hope you all understand."

"Yes, Professor," the four said.

"The school is in enough turmoil as it is over Hagrid."

"Professor—how is Hagrid _really_?" Harry asked.

"He is not well, Harry. He isn't going to die, but sometimes death isn't the worst thing. Hagrid was hit with so many different spells and curses in the cave that it is impossible to tell whether or not he will wake up and whether or not his mind will be what it once was."

"If he wakes up he could be handing us bumble gum wrappers as gifts if we visit," Ron murmured.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Ron."

"I was there to visit him earlier," Professor McGonagall said. "They only let me stay for a few minutes but I've seen Hagrid look better…"

"Why Hagrid, though, Professor?" Ginny asked.

"I can only assume because Hagrid was often a visitor of Aragog, especially when the weather turned cold. He checked up to make sure Aragog and his children weren't suffering from the frost that sometimes covers the Forbidden Forest."

"It was all just wrong place, wrong time, then?"

"I'm afraid so, yes. Voldemort doesn't take lightly to trespassers."

"Drives him right mental, I'd say," said Ron, "torturing a giant."

"Could we go see him?" Harry asked.

"No, not yet. If he wakes up I will personally set up a portkey so you all can go straight to St. Mungo's. Until that time it is best if you all stick together. Don't go running off alone in the castle or the grounds. Miss Granger, if you would please arrange so that all prefect patrols be done in threes or more? And, Miss Weasley, if you would please arrange to attend the prefect meetings? I gave you that badge for a reason. Mr. Weasley – you especially need to practice Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin informs me he will be changing tactics in his class and will begin teaching you how to properly throw up shields and how to send spells, curses, and hexes without a wand."

"That's possible?" Ron asked.

"For some. Very few. I emphasize _very few_. As for you, Harry, I don't want you wasting your time in the library. Yes, I know you found that book and I'm most pleased that you did. I was aware of its existence for some time now. Like everything else, I should have told you earlier but I didn't want to burden you with yet _another_ load until I thought you were ready. Sacrificing oneself can be most alarming and frightening. I wasn't sure if you were ready to entertain thoughts of sacrificing yourself, yet. If Voldemort thinks it foolish to dabble in Old Magic then let him think such things. I for one am going to have faith in this Old Magic."

Harry felt slightly relieved that Dumbledore thought that the sacrifice was the answer.

"If you all have anything else you need to discuss with me or Professor McGonagall, we will be more than happy to oblige." Dumbledore raised his hand and motioned for the four of them to go ahead and leave his office. When Harry reached the door behind the others, Dumbledore called out to him.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Harry, you'd do best to listen to Hermione's logic about the book." Dumbledore looked back down at the stack of papers on his desk and shuffled through them. Clearly that was all Dumbledore had to say, but Harry didn't miss the amused look on Dumbledore's face.

Harry left the headmaster's office. He joined up with his friends in great thought. He needed to talk to Ginny and Hermione about what Dumbledore just said. It would be easy to get Ginny away from Ron to talk to her. It would be harder, downright impossible, to peel Hermione and Ron apart long enough to have five minutes alone with Hermione. Deciding that he would deal with _that_ part of his life later, Harry put his arm around Ginny's shoulder and walked with his friends back to the common room.

* * *

The rest of October went smoothly enough. Potions was still a disaster for Harry. He never seemed able to do anything right for Snape. Defense Against the Dark Arts was still Harry's favorite class. Lupin was trying to teach them all to put up shields against unwanted spells. He also tried to teach them wandless magic. Harry was the only one who seemed to be receptive of this new technique. Even Hermione, who was best at everything, couldn't do it as well as Harry. No one else in the class showed any promise with it at all.

Harry was only able to summon things and banish things, which Lupin said was a promising start. Harry knew it would take years and years of training to be able to cast spells without a wand. The only reason he was able to summon anything was because he used up every ounce of his energy to do so.

Ron was able to get the shield charms without any help from Hermione, much to her surprise and pleasure. Harry wasn't sure why but the two of them seemed to be even closer. He never saw them in the same room without one of them touching the other one. In Potions they'd sit close enough so that their legs brushed against each other. In Charms Ron would rub his fingers across the back of Hermione's hand underneath the table. In History of Magic Hermione took notes, leaning over the table so that her elbow touched Ron's arm.

It wouldn't have been so annoying had Harry not needed to speak with Hermione without Ron around. Even though Dumbledore told Harry that the book was the answer, Hermione still spent her spare time in the library looking through more books just in case. Ron even went to the library with her, usually falling asleep with his head on the table while she read. Sometimes he'd do his homework or find a book about the Chudley Cannons with lots of pictures.

Finding a new Beater wasn't an easy task either since the first Quidditch match was the on the first Saturday of November. Harry had finally decided on a timid fourth year who hit the bludger more out of fear of it than skill. He was still the best choice given the circumstances. Ron was performing beautifully and even Ginny wasn't able to get a goal against him in practice. And Ginny could get a goal against just about anyone.

Ron could talk about little else than the match against Slytherin. He mainly just wanted to beat Malfoy. The Slytherin's never passed up a chance to taunt the Gryffindor team about the "mysterious disappearance" of Jack Sloper. Hermione checked the _Daily Prophet_ every day to see if there were any articles about Sloper. None of them knew what Dumbledore had done when he found out one of his students was a Death Eater. Under any other circumstances they would have been turned over to the Ministry and put in Azkaban. Hermione, and the others, didn't figure Dumbledore would send a teenager to Azkaban.

Harry and Ron were both becoming increasingly agitated as the match grew closer. The smallest things set them off. Harry blew up at Neville for dropping an ink bottle on the floor in the common room even though a simple _reparo _and _scourgify _spell would have fixed the entire problem. Ron blew up at Hermione because she still refused to kiss him in public. She'd hold his hand or kiss his cheek on rare occasions but she'd never snog him, much to Ron's frustration. They hadn't spoken for nearly the entire day before Harry blew at the two of them for being ridiculous.

The day of the Quidditch match Ron and Harry were too nervous to blow up at anyone. They ate their breakfasts quietly. It had grown much colder every day as October drew to a close and in the Quidditch tent the Gryffindor team shivered as the wind blew fiercely outside.

Hermione went around to each member and did a warming charm on them. Their noses ceased being numb and their fingers were regaining mobility.

"Now I won't freeze to my broom!" Andrew Kirke exclaimed, excited.

Harry wasn't sure how he was suppose to give a pep talk. Oliver Wood tried to instill fear in his team. Oliver Wood was a crazy, Quidditch obsessed git, according to Fred and George. Looking back Harry was inclined to agree. However, Harry wished he had more of Oliver's enthusiasm for being Quidditch captain.

After stumbling through a terrible pep talk, the team filed outside and mounted their brooms. The wind was blowing harder than ever and almost knocked Harry's glasses off from sheer force. The match began normally enough. The Quaffle went back and forth between the two teams. Harry immediately spotted the snitch behind Ron. He flew off towards it and felt the gold in his grasp when Malfoy knocked into the side of him, causing Harry to grip his wand his both hands or risk falling off his broom. Harry whipped around and yelled at Malfoy, but it was no use, the snitch had flown off out of sight.

"Get out of the way, Harry!" Ron yelled at him, diving to catch the Quaffle as Harry ducked. Ron chucked the Quaffle to Ginny who dashed off to the Slytherin end, avoiding a bludger and tossing the Quaffle easily through the Slytherin goal.

Harry flew off above the game, his eyes darting around to all ends of the pitch, looking for the snitch. If he had been watching he would have seen Ginny score two more goals to make the score thirty to zero. He would have also seen one of the Slytherin chasers get knocked off her broom by one of Kirke's bludgers. The snitch was still nowhere in sight. A slight drizzle began to fall.

After about forty five minutes Hermione's warming charm was beginning to wear off. Harry began to shiver as the drizzle turned into a frozen sprinkle started to soak through his Quidditch pads as the bits of icy water melted. He still hadn't spotted the snitch and as the frozen rain thickened Harry was becoming more and more tired and chilled to the bone.

Just as Harry thought he might have seen another flash of gold, one of the Slytherin beaters flew three feet away from Ron and hit a bludger right at him – Ron fell from his broom immediately, not even given the chance to duck or fly away – the Slytherin beater was too close when he hit the bludger. The gold fluttered right near Ron's falling body. Harry raced towards Ron, his hand reaching out desperately for the snitch. He could hear the Slytherin's cheers as their Chaser scored against the Keeper-less Gryffindor goals.

Harry felt the gold against his fist and held on tight as he hit the ground and rolled over. He held up the snitch in his hand. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff all cheered – none of the houses wanted Slytherin to win. Ten seconds after Ron was hit with the bludger he hit the ground, falling on top of Harry and the snitch.

The stadium still loud with cheers, Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall ran over to Ron and Harry to see if they were all right. The Gryffindor team crowded around them. Harry pushed Ron off him. The Gryffindors all piled onto the pitch, cheering and hugging their Quidditch team. Hermione pushed her way towards the team, Ron in particular.

Harry and Ron stood up to show they were all right.

"Perhaps you should go to the hospital wing to get that shoulder looked at, Mr. Weasley," Madam Hooch suggested.

"No, no, really, I'm all right," Ron protested.

Harry noticed, though, that Ron didn't stop rubbing his shoulder where it had hit the ground when he'd fallen.

"Oh, are you two all right?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Harry answered, instantly receiving a jumping Ginny in his arms, excited over the first win of the season. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and laughed into neck as he swung her around.

Ron watched them with a pang of jealousy. His envy didn't last long though as he was being pulled down by his Quidditch robes towards Hermione's mouth. She gave him a good long snog. He felt himself turn red as everyone around him, excluding McGonagall and Madam Hooch, cheered and hooted. Hermione pulled away and smiled at Ron.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"You're not the only one who gets excited over Quidditch," she answered.

Ron beamed.

"Hey, everyone! Victory party in the Tower!" Seamus yelled. "Come on!"

* * *

"Why does this punch smell funny?" Hermione asked, having poured herself a cup of punch from the bowl and sniffing it.

"I don't know," Ron said, now cautious whether or not to take a drink. "I don't think Dobby did anything to it. Seamus picked up all the food and stuff from the kitchens from him."

"Seamus? I don't trust him to not have filled this punch with firewhiskey."

"Firewhiskey? Brilliant!"

Hermione snatched the cup from Ron's hand. "Don't drink that. You're Head Boy!"

"Oh. Right."

Hermione and Ron sat back down on the couch by the fireplace. Harry and Ginny sat on the floor in front of it. They made sure to keep their distance whenever Ron was around – although Ginny had screwed up just a bit by jumping in Harry's arms after the match.

"That was a brilliant game," Hermione said. "I think you scored almost all the goals, Ginny."

"All but two," replied Ginny proudly.

Hermione spotted Lavender and Seamus leaving the common room. She called out to them, "where do you think you're going? It's ten minutes until curfew!"

Lavender turned around and put her hands on her hips. "We're going to the Room of Requirement. If you want to come and find us at curfew _be my guest_ but you know what you'll be interrupting."

Hermione frowned. "I'll have to give you detention for being out past curfew! I really don't want to do that."

"If you'd let Ron take you to the Room of Requirement every once in a while you might not be so wound up! Rules are meant to be broken and we're leaving _now_. Come on, Seamus."

Seamus followed Lavender out of the portrait hole. The students remaining in the common room looked at Hermione curiously. She scowled at them. She crossed her arms over her chest, a frown adorning her face.

"Come on," Ron said softly to her. "We don't need the Room of Requirement. We have my room."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Ron!" Harry bellowed. "I thought I _told_ you—"

"Shut it, Harry, we're leaving." Ron pulled Hermione up off the couch and they went up the boys' dormitory stairs, following their usual weekend ritual of a snog and then sleep in Ron's room. Sunday through Thursday nights, however, Hermione refused to leave her own room.

"You don't suppose they shag, do you?" Ginny asked, a disgusted tone in her voice.

"I've told Ron again and again I don't want any details about him and Hermione but I suspect Ron wouldn't keep something that big a secret. He'd find a subtle way to tell me, I'm sure."

Ginny hugged Harry's arm. "Let's go…"

"Go where? Lavender and Seamus have already claimed the Room of—"

"We can go to your room."

"But, Dean and Neville—"

"They're playing chess. We can cast silencing charms around your bed. With the curtains drawn and the canopy above your bed, it's like a small room, yeah? No one can hear us."

"Ginny… that's sneaky."

Ginny smiled. "I learn all my tricks from my brothers," she said.

"Well, my bet is that that trick is from the twins."

Ginny nodded. She stood up. Harry looked up at her and then climbed to his feet. They made their way towards the seventh year dorm quietly, hoping not to draw attention to themselves. The room was messy, clothes all over the floor, bits of parchment strewn everywhere, but the area around Harry's bed and desk was very neat. Ginny was impressed.

Harry took off his shoes and Quidditch pads, his jeans and jumper underneath. Ginny did the same. He tossed their stuff onto his trunk at the end of the bed. He climbed on top of the blankets he had made up that morning. Ginny sat next to him. Harry drew closed his curtains and Ginny used her wand to cast a silencing charm around them.

"What if someone opens up the curtains?" Harry asked.

"Do any of your roommates open your bed curtains late at night?"

Harry shook his head.

"Then don't worry." Ginny laid back on Harry's bed, her hair fanned out on his pillow. Harry looked at her. "If you're tired we can just sleep," suggested Ginny.

"Lift up," Harry said. Ginny lifted up her body as Harry pulled back the sheets and the blankets. He pulled them back up around them, cuddling against Ginny. "It's cold."

Ginny smiled. She kissed Harry, pulling him on top of her. His hands went to her jumper. She sat up just a bit so he could lift it up over her head. The t-shirt she had on underneath went as well. Harry laid her back down and went back to kissing her. He pulled off his own jumper and t-shirt when Ginny tugged on them. He tossed them to the end of his bed on top of Ginny's garments. Ginny ran her hands over Harry's smooth, but hard, chest. It wasn't nearly as defined as Dean's – Dean had a membership to his gym with his stepfather – but it felt so much better under her hands. She had gotten Dean's shirts off but he had never been able to get off hers. Now, with Harry, Ginny didn't care. Everything felt so much more natural.

Harry's hands cupped her cotton clad breasts. He felt her moan into his mouth and her removed his lips and kissed her neck. Ginny ran her hands slowly down Harry's chest until she felt the waist of his jeans. She unbuttoned them and worked the zipper down. She tried to pull them off with little luck. Harry helped her, tossing them to the end of his bed. He dipped his head between his breasts, reached around to unhook her bra, and took it off. He kissed her skin there. Ginny brushed her hands across the front of his boxers. Harry began to breathe a little harder when she did this. Wanting to touch her, Harry undid the row of buttons on Ginny's jeans and pulled them down her legs, slyly removing her kickers as well. He kissed her stomach and laughed to himself when he realized he had never seen her fully naked in front of him before. He'd seen her unclad breasts and well, the night he'd… well… that night he'd seen her without her knickers. But never at the same time.

"What are you staring at?" Ginny asked playfully.

"Just you." Harry's eyes raked up and down her body. Her lines were smooth, her skin pale.

Ginny ran her arms up Harry's chest again and around his neck. He looked up at him. He settled back down on her and kissed her. He felt the sweat at the back of his neck. Ginny lightly touched Harry's back and moved her hands down to his boxers. Harry felt her try to pull them down.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, pulling away and leaning up over her on his elbows.

"What?" Ginny said, confused. "It's not like I haven't seen it before."

Harry blushed. "I know, but…" He looked at her up and down again. Yes, she was clearly stark naked in front of him.

"Why can't we?" Ginny asked.

"You can't be serious."

"Why not? If we don't now it might be too late by Christmas."

Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to believe his ears. "But, shouldn't we be in love?"

Ginny's eyes glazed over with tears. "But, _I_ am."

"I…" Harry felt guilty. "I can't lie to you, Gin. I have no idea what being in love feels like. I love everything about you, I really do. I'm right mad about you. I love you, I love you differently than Ron or Hermione, but I don't know if I'm _in_ love with you."

Ginny stroked Harry inside of his boxers. "It's okay, Harry," she said. "I don't mind. Unless you don't want to."

"Oh, I want to." Harry glanced down at himself. "Oh, I definitely want to." He looked back at Ginny's eyes. "I've never… I don't know what… well… I've just never…"

"Me neither." Ginny gave Harry a pout. "Please?"

"Ron—"

"Ron doesn't have to know," Ginny interrupted.

"No, that's not what I was going to say. Ron put this idea in my head. He said he wanted to be like your parents and be with one person for his entire life. He said Bill and Charlie and Percy all did that. And my parents were the same way as well."

"So?"

"So, I kind of think it's a right good idea. I had never given it thought one way or another until he brought it up. If we do this… I don't want to be your one and have it be a waste. Or…"

"I know that's how Ron feels. I feel the same way, too."

"Well, Gin… This would be it, then. What if I'm not meant to be your one?"

Ginny's expression softened. "Harry, you've always been the only one. There's never been another choice for me."

This time Harry didn't protest as Ginny pushed his boxers away from him. He kicked them off, losing them somewhere under the blankets. He traced the side of her face with his thumb. She nodded at him, giving him further permission. Harry kissed her more deeply than he ever had before.

And when he was inside of her it was the only time he ever truly forgot everything else, the only time he ever truly forgot Voldemort. His body was on fire and all time was stopped.

* * *

"Why are you so upset?" Ron asked Hermione. He pulled on his pajamas while Hermione had her head down on his desk. "Hermione?"

"What?"

Ron got into his bed and pulled his blankets around him. He rubbed his feet together; without socks his feet were cold.

"Why are you so upset about what Lavender said?"

Hermione lifted up her head. "They all think I'm an uptight prude. I've heard her say it before, behind her bed curtains with Parvati, gossiping when they think I'm asleep. Last year, anyway. I just hate it they think I'm such a prude. Is that silly?"

"Not at all. Come here."

Hermione stood up and walked to the edge of Ron's bed. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm _here_ every weekend doing things my parents would be right ashamed of and yet Lavender tells me to go to the Room of Requirement. Ugh!"

"Don't let her get to you."

"I should've told her I had no need for that silly room. I _should've_ told her you were nothing like George – you were better. That'd really get her knickers in a twist."

Ron was shocked. "Hermione! I can't believe you just said that."

Hermione blushed. "Me neither."

"You can tell Lavender anything you want. You _have_ seen it after all. Although, I hope you wouldn't know how it compares to my brother."

"I've more than seen it," Hermione muttered. "Lavender has no idea bout that either though. She thinks she's so clever."

Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione.

"Oh, fine." Hermione gave up her rant. "I'm going to get my pajamas."

Hermione left the room and came back five minutes later in pink pajamas with little yellow ducks on them. Ron thought it was the cutest thing he had seen her in yet. He pulled back the blankets so she could get in. He covered her up and pulled her close, breathing in her smell. After about fifteen minutes of silence, Hermione spoke up.

"You're not going to try anything?"

"Oi, Hermione. No. You've said before that you're good for more than just a snog. That's not the only reason why I like it when you're in my room. Besides, I'm knackered and I sleep much better when you're here."

Hermione didn't say anything. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep. She heard Ron's breathing even out not too long after that. Another five minutes and Hermione was sleeping as well.

They were both awakened hours later, though still dark outside, by a knock at the door. Ron rubbed his eyes, not sure what he had heard exactly. By the second knock Ron was sure what it was and went to his door. Hermione laid as still as possible in Ron's bed, hoping that whoever was at the door wouldn't see her. Ron opened the door.

"Professor Dumbledore," Ron said, confused.

"Mr. Weasley. I promised you I would tell you as soon as Hagrid woke up. He awoke not a few moments ago. Get dressed and come to my office. I have a portkey that can take you to St. Mungo's." Dumbledore's eyes glanced behind Ron to Hermione's bed. "Oh, good, saves me a trip to Miss Granger's room. Did you get all that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione winced. "Yes, Professor," she replied weakly.

"To save me a little time, please go and wake Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter for me, will you? I still need to finish getting the portkey."

Ron nodded. The headmaster left and Ron shut his door.

Hermione was unbelievably embarrassed. She quickly jumped out of bed and ran past Ron, opened the door, and went to her own room to change.

Ron found his jeans, jumper, and sneakers. He dressed quickly and raced down the stairs to the seventh year boys' dormitory. All of the curtains were drawn except for Seamus', not that that surprised Ron any. Ron pulled back Harry's curtains to wake him up. Ron jumped back in surprise.

Harry and Ginny were both asleep under the covers. Ginny had on what looked like a blue plaid pajama top on. The rest of her was hidden by blankets. Ron desperately hoped the rest of her was equally as clothed.

"Harry, wake up," Ron said through clenched teeth. "Harry!"

Harry stirred. "Mmmm."

"Dumbledore said Hagrid's awake. Get dressed and go to his office." Ron walked away before he got mad enough to punch Harry.

"Ron!" Harry called out. "Wait!"

Ron ignored Harry's calls. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked down the stairs to the common room. Hermione was waiting for him.

"Ginny wasn't in her room—" she started, but Ron cut her off.

"I know. She's upstairs sleeping in Harry's bed. No, I didn't hit him, and _no,_ I don't want to talk about it. Let's just go to Dumbledore's office."

Hermione nodded and followed him out of the portrait hole.

* * *

**To Be Continued…**


	12. Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

St. Mungo's was exactly how Harry remembered it. Hagrid was placed in a special room – all the other rooms were too small for someone of Hagrid's size. He was bruised and swollen and looked like he had been in a bad fist fight. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were told that while Hagrid was awake and able to talk, he often twitched as a result of the curses that where thrown at him. They shouldn't be alarmed but they also shouldn't stand too close.

"It was You-Know-Who all righ'," Hagrid said.

He mumbled on after that about curses and Death Eaters, occasionally his head twitching form side to side, only making partial sense. Harry couldn't stand to watch this. Hagrid was barely making any sense and Ron wouldn't even stand next to Harry. Harry wondered if it would be another month before Ron decided to talk to him again. Harry walked out of Hagrid's room; Hagrid didn't notice.

He leaned against the wall outside of the door, breathing in deeply. Dumbledore and McGonagall were a ways down the hall, speaking with one of the nurses. Harry ran his hands through his hair and hugged his arms around his chest tightly, resisting the urge to cry. Voldemort had to choose to hurt the most innocent of all Harry's friends. Hagrid never hurt anyone and every single one of his intentions were good. Why did Voldemort always do this?

"Harry…"

Ginny came out into the hall and reached out to touch Harry's shoulder. Harry wanted to shrug off her touch, to tell her to leave him alone, but after last night he didn't want to do anything that might hurt her feelings.

Harry slid his back down against the wall until he was sitting. Ginny kneeled down next to him. He rubbed his eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"No," Harry answered. "Did you see Hagrid in there? Voldemort did that to him. Just like he did to countless others. I don't think I can look at Hagrid like that anymore."

Ginny sat all the way down. She placed her hand on Harry's knee.

"Plus, I think Ron's not speaking to me again."

"Well, it's not as though he saw us naked. I was wearing your pajama top."

"And I had on a t-shirt, I know."

Ginny shrugged. "So, tell him nothing happened. Hermione sleeps in his room all the time and they don't have sex. But, last night was so memorable. Don't let Ron ruin it for you."

"I won't." Harry became lost in his thoughts about the night before. He didn't think about sex as much as some of his friends did. He knew Seamus did nothing _but_ think about it. Harry knew the mechanics of it – what went where and whatnot. The rest was pure improvising. He had no idea anything could feel so good. His entire body felt on fire and Harry would have been happy for the rest of his life to just stay there inside Ginny. Unfortunately, it was all over a few minutes later.

Ginny rested her head on Harry's shoulder. She closed her eyes. They stayed that way for a while until McGonagall went into Hagrid's room to fetch Ron and Hermione. She took the portkey and Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione felt that familiar tug against their stomachs and found themselves back in Dumbledore's office. They had just missed breakfast so the only thing left to do was to go back to the common room and wait until lunch.

They walked back in silence, Hermione leading the way. She spoke the password and climbed through the portrait hole. Everyone else came in behind her.

"Where is everyone?" she asked Seamus – the only Gryffindor in the whole of the room.

"Not back from breakfast I es-peck."

"Es-peck?" Ron asked.

"Expect," Hermione told him.

"Are you pissed, Seamus?" Harry asked.

Seamus nodded. "Drank the rest of that firewhiskey."

"For heaven's sake, _why_?" Hermione demanded.

"Lavender. She broke it off with me for Dean. Said there's shomethin' nish about a boy who's never done it."

Harry sat down at the table across from Seamus. He took the firewhiskey bottle, now almost completely empty. He handed it to Hermione. He knew she would dispose of it properly.

"And getting pissed will help you deal with Lavender?" Harry asked.

Seamus shrugged. "She really wanted Ron, you know."

Ron's eyebrows lifted. He thought Lavender's flirty games were just that – flirty games. He had no idea she was serious. He felt uneasy about it somehow. Girls didn't like him. Girls liked Harry. The only girl who had ever liked him was Hermione. He wasn't the type girls like Lavender went for. He was clumsy and too tall and poor.

"But, Ron wouldn't lishen," Seamus continued. "She got mad because he wouldn't leave Hermione. Then, she wanted Harry but I shink Neville told her he and Ginny shlept together last night so she had to shettle for Dean. She told me before breakfast."

The anger inside Ron rose. He could feel the back of his neck get hot.

"But, you were only with Lavender for the shags, weren't you?" Hermione asked.

"Sho? Now where will I get laid?" Seamus laid his head down on the table and moaned.

Ron looked at Harry. "You shagged my sister last night?"

Harry's eyes flew to Ginny and he opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out.

"HOW COULD YOU?" Ron yelled.

"Ron, stop it!" Hermione cried.

"You haven't been dating her that long!" Ron spun around and looked at his sister. "Don't you have any morals?"

Harry jumped up, his chair flying backwards. "Take that back, Ron!"

"You know nothing about it," Ginny told her brother. "It is _my_ business. Don't take it out on Harry."

"You haven't been together as long as Hermione and I have and we're never done it."

"So what? We're _different_ than you and Hermione," Harry said. "It doesn't mean it was wrong or any less special."

"Of course it does! After like two months you fuck my sister?! Make a slag out of her?!"

Ron had gone too far. Harry knew that Ron was saying all this out of anger because Ginny was his little sister, but on the other hand, Ginny was _his_ girlfriend and no one, not even her brother, was allowed to say things like that about her.

That's when Harry punched Ron.

* * *

Ginny was furious at both Harry and her brother. She was certain that punching Ron ensured Harry another month of silence. She couldn't really blame him though and if she was honest with herself she was a bit flattered that any boyfriend of hers would punch another guy to stick up for her reputation.

Hermione, though, was furious all over. She looked at Ron's face to make sure he was okay and to ensure none of his teeth had been knocked out. Then, she retreated up to her room and slammed the door shut. If Ron threw rocks against her door again she wasn't going to answer. She felt rather ridiculous holing herself up in her room. She didn't have any homework to do – she finished it all during the week. She could study, she supposed, but she was already so far ahead in each of her classes, and she didn't think she could concentrate anyway.

It wasn't Ron she was particularly angered with; it was the entire situation. She didn't understand why Ron couldn't accept things. Why did he always have to get in a huff and let his temper get out of control? Hermione spent most of the day analyzing her boyfriend, realizing that she had no answer for herself. Ron was a mystery. But, an adorable mystery.

When her stomach gave a loud growl Hermione realized she needed to get down to dinner. Having missed breakfast and lunch wasn't a smart idea as she now felt almost queasy at her lack of food intake for the day.

Hermione looked in her mirror and smoothed out her hair the best she could. She straightened her jumper and tied her shoes and left her room. She hesitated at the top of the stairs. Perhaps she should see if Ron was going to dinner. Even though they still bickered all the time they were more apt to make up within a matter of minutes. They hardly ever went the entire day without speaking like they did in the past years.

Hermione turned around and walked over to Ron's room. She knocked on his door. She could hear him fumbling around inside. She heard a distinctive "ouch!" and his chair being knocked over. Ron opened the door to his room. He looked surprised to see her.

"I was hungry," she said. "I was wondering if you'd come down to dinner with me."

Ron, still looking surprised, nodded. "Lemme get my other shoe…" Ron disappeared into his room and reappeared with shoes in hands. He closed the door to his room, dropped his shoes to the floor, and stepped into them.

They walked down the stairs, Ron glancing at her uncertainly. Hermione took his hand in hers as they exited the common room and made their way down to dinner. Hermione spotted Harry and Ginny and marched over to the table and sat down across from them. Ron wavered a moment over whether or not to sit, but his stomach ended up making the decision for him and he sat down next to Hermione. She moved closer to him, their sides touching. Ron glanced up at his sister and Harry.

"So, I've been looking in the library, Harry," Hermione said, "even though Dumbledore said that the first book you found was the answer to Voldemort's defeat. However, I'm still trying to find something else that might help as well. Unfortunately, all the books on Old Magic are far too outdated to work."

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny.

"Well, there's a lot in there about how to make protective shields against the Unforgivable Curses – unfortunately the illegal curses hundreds of years ago are ones we can safely guard ourselves against today. The Killing Curse hadn't been invented yet. And we all know you can't throw up a powerful enough shield to deflect that curse."

Harry looked up from his Shepherd's pie and extra potatoes. "Why not? Someone must be powerful enough to deflect a Killing Curse."

"There's no real way of _practicing_ it. You might have powerful shields but you only get one chance to see if it's powerful _enough_. And for wizards today, it never is."

Ron chewed his own helping of Shepherd's pie slowly. "There's no spell or potion that can shield you?"

"Well, there are but none of them are strong enou—"

"What if you took the potion and then also threw up one of those shields Lupin's been teaching us? Would it deflect a Killing Curse, then?"

"Like, double shields," Harry said.

Ron nodded. "I mean, Mad-Eye Moody and Lupin began to teach us shields in Defense class before Umbridge and Harry taught us _Protego_ but this new stuff that Lupin's come up with... Nothing seems to get through it."

"It's just a more advance _Protego_," Hermione said. "When we were third years the only thing you needed to shield yourself from was one of the twins' clever hexes, right? Now, we're trying to protect ourselves from more advanced magic."

Ron nodded again. "Yeah."

"I don't know," Hermione said. "The Imperius, Cruciatus, and Avada Kedavra Curses are the most powerful curses there are. And the most dangerous. The wizards who invented them purposefully made them that way. What's the point of the Killing Curse if people can protect themselves from it." Hermione didn't pose it as a question. "I don't know if a double shield would work. I can always look in the library."

"I'll help you look," Ginny said. "I want to help find something to protect Harry."

"You already found that first book," Harry said, looking at her, his eyes shining.

Ginny blushed. "I know. But, this is really important."

"I'll help you look on my nights off from Occlumency lessons."

Ginny and Hermione both looked at Ron. He seemed oblivious. He was heaping more meat and gravy onto his plate when he stopped and glanced back and forth between his sister and his girlfriend.

"_What_?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ron!"

"What in the name of Merlin are you 'honestly, Ron'-ing me for?"

"Aren't you going to offer to help us look for books to help Harry against Voldemort?"

Ron stuffed a large piece of meat in his mouth instead of answering.

"It's okay," Harry said, almost sadly. "He's still angry with me."

"I'm not…" Ron looked frustrated. "But, _my sister_. You don't get it, really; you don't have a little sister to be protective over. Couldn't you have shagged Lavender instead?"

From next to Ginny, Lavender piped up. "Did I hear my name?"

Ron groaned. Just what he didn't want was another lovely conversation with Lavender.

"Actually," Harry said, looking past Ginny to Lavender. "We heard you dumped Seamus for Dean."

Dean, who was sitting next to Ron, across from Lavender, looked up from his dinner. He hadn't been paying a bit of attention to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's conversation.

"What?" Dean asked.

"We heard," Ron said irritably, "that Lavender dropped Seamus for you."

Dean shrugged.

"I guess you're no better than I am now," Harry spat at him, disgusted that Dean had given him the silent treatment all term and now had turned out be a total hypocrite.

"Dean's lovely," Lavender cooed. "There's something sexy about teaching a guy the ropes."

Dean shifted in his seat, uncomfortable.

"Are all your relationships based purely on sex?" Ginny asked.

"Like you're one to talk," Lavender replied. "I heard you shagged Harry last night."

"I don't even know _how_ you know that."

"Neville told me."

"Well, then, I don't know how _Neville_ knows that." Ginny looked at Harry who only shrugged.

"And why shouldn't my relationships be about sex? It's not like I'm going to find my future husband _here_. The first guy I fuck isn't going to be the guy I marry."

"Why not?" Harry asked. "My parents met at Hogwarts and got married."

"Ours too," Ginny said, looking at her brother.

"Actually, my parents met in secondary school and went to the same college," Hermione said, looking rather thoughtful.

Lavender rolled her eyes. "Oh, whatever. Come on, Dean." Lavender got up from the table and left the Great Hall with Dean.

No one said anything after they left. Ginny was the first to break the silence.

"So, are you going to help us or not, Ron?"

Ron, begrudgingly, agreed.

* * *

Because Ron couldn't walk Hermione up to her door due to the alarms, he always watched her go inside. She kissed his cheek after he walked her up the stairs. She walked in through the door. Ron was about to retreat back to the common room to finish his Potions with Harry when he heard Hermione scream.

She ran back out of her room and straight into Ron. He looked at her, alarmed.

"What is it?"

Hermione didn't have to answer because a sinister looking Wormtail poked his head out of Hermione's room just then. Alarms went off and Wormtail was flung from Hermione's room and to the other side of the wards separating the boys' dormitories from the girls'. Ron couldn't help but laugh. He reached into his back pocket to look for his wand.

Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at Wormtail. The ratty man held up his hands, one flesh, one silver.

"I don't come to hurt _you_," Wormtail said.

"Oh, really? Why have you come, then?" Hermione asked, poking her wand at Wormtail's throat.

"I have a message for you."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "For _me_?"

Wormtail nodded and smiled widely. "Message for the clever one. I can only say what my master has sent me to say and no more."

"Get on with it, then."

"The Dark Lord, may he live forever, says Hagrid is the first. Harry will be the last. The other Mudbloods will be in between."

"Other Mudbloods?" Hermione asked. "But, Hagrid wasn't a Mudblood."

Wormtail pointed his index finger as to show he had taken Hermione's point. "But, he was half. Impure. There are others just as impure."

Ron began to feel his temper rise again. "What others?"

"Those who follow Dumbledore. The Dark Lord knows who is loyal to Dumbledore. He knows who they are and"—Wormtail's eyes flew to Hermione—"who their parents are. Hagrid is the first. Harry is the last. You saw for yourself at St. Mungo's what the Dark Lord did to the first."

Hermione's hand began to shake. "What's he done to my parents?" she demanded, her voice shaking as much as her hand.

"I know not everything the Dark Lord does."

"You're his lackey!" Ron bellowed. "You know what he's done to her parents! Tell us!"

Wormtail only shrugged. "You must not tell Dumbledore of what I have told you – the Dark Lord will know if you have. There are spies _everywhere_. Tell Harry not to go looking for the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord will find him when it is time."

"When will it _be_ time?" Hermione asked.

Wormtail just smiled.

"Is there anything else the Dark Lo – Voldemort wanted you to say?"

Wormtail smiled even more widely and shook his head.

"Well, then," Hermione said. "_Petrificus totalus_!"

Wormtail's body seized up and he fell over, unable to move anything.

"We should get him to Dumbledore," Ron said.

"We can't. Wormtail said there were spies everywhere."

"Yeah," Ron grumbled. "Like Sloper. And probably Malfoy, too."

Hermione shook her head. "No. Why wouldn't he want us telling Dumbledore? He didn't say we couldn't tell someone else, just not Dumbledore…" Hermione looked off into space. "Phineas Nigellus."

"Huh?"

"Phineas Nigellus. He was Headmaster of Hogwarts back in the nineteenth century. He hates half bloods."

"Yeah, so? He's dead now, isn't he?"

Hermione nodded. "But his portrait is still hanging up in Dumbledore's office. If Voldemort has another portrait of his then Phineas can travel back and forth to it and tell Voldemort whatever he hears in Dumbledore's office. That's probably how Voldemort knew we went to St. Mungo's to see Hagrid. What I don't understand is… is how. Old Headmasters and 'mistresses are suppose to pledge their alliance to the new Headmaster."

"Well, Kreacher was suppose to follow the House Elf rules but that didn't stop him from leaving Sirius' house, did it?"

Hermione considered this and nodded. "I think we better go find Lupin. We can trust him."

"What do we do with Wormtail?" Ron asked. "How long will he stay like that?"

"Until someone undoes my spell," answered Hermione.

"How come the alarms didn't go off when he first got in your room?"

"When I screamed it was because I saw a rat in the middle of my room and I immediately recognized him as Scabbers. The moment he transformed back into a person the alarms went off, I'm sure."

"So, if I learn to be an animagus I can go into your room any time I want?" Ron smiled. "Cool."

"But, you'd never be able to transform back into a man without the alarms hurling you back to the boys' side."

Ron's face fell. "Oh, yeah."

"Let's get Wormtail into your room. We'll tell Harry to keep an eye on him while we go find Lupin."

* * *

Hermione knocked on Lupin's door. To her surprise Tonks opened it.

"Hello, Hermione. Ron. What's up?"

"Oh, um, is Professor Lupin here?" Hermione asked.

Tonks nodded. "He's in his room. That potion of Snape's makes him a bit ill whenever he drinks it. But, when he transforms he's gentle as a house dog. I tell him I like him better as a man, but between you and me, I kind of like the wolf."

From behind Tonks Lupin chuckled. "Thank you, Tonks."

Tonks ducked inside the office. "I'll let you lot talk." She opened the back door and went inside of Lupin's quarters, knocking over a lamp.

"What brings you to my office so late?"

"There's a certain Marauder in Ron's room," Hermione said carefully. "He told us we are not to speak with Dumbledore because there are spies in the portraits in Dumbledore's office." Hermione wanted to be careful not to say any names in case any of the other portraits around school were listening. Her voice was very soft.

Lupin's eyes studied Hermione's face. "Continue…"

"He said, Hagrid is the first. Harry is the last. Mudbloods and half-breeds are in danger if they are loyal to Dumbledore. He mentioned my parents."

Lupin's eyes shot up from Hermione's and looked at Ron. He clicked his tongue in thought. "The Marauder is in Ron's room, you say?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, Hermione gave him a total body bind and Harry and Ginny are watching him now. Do you think You-Know-Who will do something to her parents if we don't give Wormtail back to him?"

"Voldemort knows we would send Wormtail to Azkaban. He sacrificed one of his Death Eaters. Although, I daresay he didn't sacrifice a very _important_ or powerful Death Eater. I will go right now and speak with Minerva and Snape. Somehow we'll tell Dumbledore, although if there are spies in the portraits… Anyway, you two go back to Gryffindor Tower. Wait in Ron's room. I know if anything happens Hermione will be able to take care of Wormtail."

Ron took Hermione's hand to lead her back to Gryffindor Tower, but Hermione resisted.

"Please, Professor, my parents?"

"We'll send an Auror from the Order to your house as soon as possible." Lupin closed his office door. "Now, _go_, so I can go see Minerva." Lupin wrung his hands together, looking as nervous as Hermione, as he took off down the corridor.

* * *

Hermione and Ron went back to Ron's room. They sat on the edge of Ron's bed, Hermione wrapped in a blanket. Ginny and Harry sat on the floor with their backs against one of Ron's walls, a blanket wrapped around them both. Ron seemed to be the only one unaware of the November cold. None of them spoke, but every once in a while Ron would whisper something into Hermione's ear and she would nod.

It was almost midnight before any of the professors came to Ron's room. A knock on the door made all four of them jump.

Ron answered the door. Snape, McGonagall, and Lupin were all standing outside. Ron moved out of the way so they could come in. He shut the door. Snape looked around Ron's room. His eyes fell on Harry and Ginny and he snarled.

Minerva McGonagall cleared her throat. "When you leave for breakfast and your lessons in the morning you will notice several portraits that have been removed from the walls. Phineas' has been destroyed. If you see any others of him lurking around – not that he was in any others that we know of – please tell us _immediately_."

"Once the portrait was destroyed," Lupin cut in, "we were able to talk with Dumbledore safely. Although, in the future, anything you need to discuss with the Headmaster should be brought to my attention – or Professor McGonagall or Snape. Just in case."

"We alerted all the members of the Order who might be considered in anyway impure. Miss Granger, you are one of them, even though you are not a member of the Order. Several of the members have Muggle parents or grandparents and they have been notified."

"Excuse me, Professor, but what about my parents?"

McGonagall looked at Hermione, her usually-stern expression softened. "Yes, well, we sent two of our Aurors to your house, Miss Granger. Perhaps it would be best if we were to speak in your own quarters about this?"

* * *

**To Be Continued…**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**A/N: WARNING – a bit of fluff ahead. You have been notified.**

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Hermione unwound her fingers from Ron's hand and stood up from the edge of his bed. She nodded at McGonagall and walked out of Ron's room with McGonagall at her heel. Snape, still sneering at Harry and Ginny walked out also, muttering something about waiting in the corridor. Lupin made his way to the door behind Snape, but Ron stopped him.

"Sir, what's happened with Hermione's parents?" Ron asked, his voice filled with concern.

Lupin cleared his throat. "Perhaps it's best if Hermione told you… once she knows herself." Lupin's usually scratchy voice was even more hoarse as the full moon grew closer and he grew more ill. "Snape will be teaching my classes for the next few days," Lupin told them. "But, if you need me during the day I'll be in my quarters. Tonks can give me any messages you need me to hear."

"Tonks is going to be here this week?" Ginny asked.

"Only until the full moon is over. She worries…" Lupin's voice trailed off.

Harry and Ginny exchanged amused glances. The romance between their favorite professor and clumsy young Auror was too cute. Harry wondered what Sirius would have thought had he known his best friend was dating his cousin over ten years their junior. Harry reckoned Sirius would have told Remus he was a "sly ol' dog."

Ron began to pace back and forth in his room. He ran his hands through his orangey hair nervously.

"Calm down, Ron," Harry said.

"Sod off." Ron wrung his hands together as he continued to pace.

"I'll leave you lot alone," Lupin said. "Maybe you should try to get some sleep before lessons tomorrow. I daresay Snape might have to call upon one of you to try out your new shields? Or wandless magic? Last lesson you seemed to be getting the hang of it, Ron."

Ron stopped pacing, and looked at the doorway. But, he wasn't looking at Lupin, he was looking at McGonagall. She looked tired but the stern look from her face had completely faded away. She looked down her nose and through her glasses at Ron.

"Perhaps, Mr. Weasley, it would be best if you were to go and see Miss Granger."

Ron's heart sped up. "But, the alarms, I can't—"

"One exception can be made." McGonagall waved her wand. "Go on, Mr. Weasley. This time I'll look the other way, but only because of extenuating circumstances, all right? Go."

Ron ran out of his room.

McGonagall looked at Harry and Ginny. "You two." She pointed her finger and them and then out of the corridor. "Go to bed."

"What about Wormtail?" Harry asked, standing up.

"We'll take care of him. Go."

Harry and Ginny left Ron's room. Ginny reached out to hug him and whispered into his ear, "meet me in the common room in half an hour." She walked to the girls' dormitories down the girls' stairs. Harry retreated to his own seventh year dorm.

* * *

Ron opened Hermione's door. She was lying on her bed clutching her pillow to her chest. Ron closed her door and immediately went to the bed. He laid down next to her and took her in his arms. She shook against him and he smoothed out the tear soaked hair against her face. It killed Ron to see her upset. It was only the second time he'd seen her cry since they'd been together and he still wasn't sure exactly what he was suppose to do. He held her and rubbed her back, hoping to ease her pain a little bit.

"They're gone, Ron," she whispered. "Voldemort took them away and they're not coming back." She hiccupped.

"Shh," Ron whispered back. "It'll be okay." He hugged her tightly.

"No!" Hermione cried out. "No, it won't! They're _gone_ – _dead_! My house was – was ransacked – everything was torn up! And – and my mom was…"

"Shh," Ron said again.

"No!" Hermione pulled away from him and jumped up from her bed. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were stained with trails of tears. The hair around her face was damp with salty tears. "They're dead, Ron!" The water began to fall from her eyes again. "Dead…" The last word came out as a whisper. She hiccupped and began to sob.

Ron got up from the bed and pulled her into his arms. She tried to struggle but he was much bigger than her. He held her against him with all his strength, refusing to let her go. She finally relented and sank against him, her shoulders shaking with each sobbed breath. Ron pushed all the hair away from her face and wiped away the tears from her cheeks with his fingers. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip and smiled sadly at her.

"Let's get you to bed, yeah?"

Two giant tears fell from Hermione's eyes. Ron sat her down on her bed. The two tears turned back into delayed sobs.

"Where're your pajamas?" Ron asked.

Hermione pointed to the bureau against the opposite wall. Ron went to it and pulled open the drawers until he found the ones with her pajamas inside. He took out the ones he knew she liked best – the pink ones with the yellow ducks. They reminded her of being a little girl, she told him once, playing with bubbles and rubber ducks when her mother drew her a bath.

Ron went back over to her. She looked helpless, gasping between sobs for breath, hiccupping. He kneeled down in front of her and picked up her feet. He took off her sneakers and socks. Her skin was cold. Her feet were shaking. He pulled her jumper up over her head. He did the same to her t-shirt. Ron knew she didn't usually sleep in a bra but under the circumstances he thought it best to leave it on. He took her pajama top and put each of her arms inside it. He buttoned up the front of it for her.

"It's okay," he said again. He kissed her mouth softly.

Ron's hands shook a bit when he realized he would have to take off her jeans. He never had done that before. He undid the button and the zipper and slowly pulled them off her legs.

"Stand up," he told Hermione.

He helped her step into her pajama bottoms. He tied the drawstring tightly around her waist – just the way he knew she liked it. He pulled back the blankets and sheets on her bed and pushed her lightly until she sat back down. He tucked her in. She still had tears in her eyes.

"Do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Let me go and get my Potions book. It's still in the common room. I never finished that essay. I'll be back, okay?"

Hermione nodded again.

Ron left her room and ran down the stairs. The fire in the common room was lit and he could see the tops of a black haired boy and red headed girl sitting on the couch. Ron grabbed his Potions book and his parchment form where he left them on the common room table earlier.

"Hi," Ron said.

Harry and Ginny's heads both whipped around. They looked at Ron, suddenly concern filling their eyes.

"Her parents…" Ron started.

"Did he kill them?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded. "Hermione's a bit upset. She hasn't told me anything McGonagall said except that they're dead."

"I wish I could go after him," Harry said. "I wish I could kill him and make all this stop."

Ron and Ginny looked at each other but said nothing.

"Well, mate, I better finish my Potions essay. 'Night."

Ron turned and ran back up the stairs to Hermione's room. He opened the door slowly and closed it behind him softly in case she had fallen asleep. She turned her head and sniffled. Ron walked over to the bed and kicked off his shoes. He climbed on the bed next to her, laying his Potions book and parchment to the other side.

Hermione moved her pillow so she would be lying right next to him. He ran his fingers through her hair, noticing the wet spots on her pillow. He opened up his Potions book and took his parchment and quill and began his essay on how the Paralysis Draught they had learned first week related to the properties of a stick of Blooms-Bird Branch. Ron had no idea.

Hermione's breathing eventually evened out. Every few minutes she'd let out a whimper in her sleep and Ron couldn't help but notice the few tear drops that still escaped from her closed eyes as she slept.

* * *

Harry let out a breath he had been holding the entire time Ron was in the common room. Once Ron was safely upstairs, Harry allowed himself to breathe.

"That was close."

Ginny nodded. She took her hands out of Harry's pajama bottoms and leaned over to kiss him. She moved to sit on his lap, straddling him. He reached his hands around her, griping her backside and grinding her into him. Ginny removed her mouth from his.

"I was thinking."

"Mmm," Harry responded, kissing her again.

Ginny pulled away after a moment. "Perhaps we should"—kiss—"stay here for Christmas holiday"—kiss—"Ron and Hermione'll go to the Burrow"—long kiss—"or even Grimmauld Place"—kiss—"We can tell my mum we're staying here to be safe from Voldemort"—kiss—"since you"—kiss—"had that vision. Voldemort won't come"—another very long kiss—"he won't come if Dumbledore's here"—kiss—"and Dumbledore spends every Christmas at Hogwarts."

Harry looked at Ginny. "No one ever stays here during Christmas holiday. It'll be a bit boring, won't it?"

Ginny rolled her eyes playfully. "It'll just be me and you. And no one will be able to disturb us." She nibbled on his earlobe. "And we can make sure we've proved our love over and over again."

Harry felt his blood heat up. "When did you become such a vixen?"

Ginny smiled slyly. "I've always been one. You bring it out of me when we're alone together."

Harry laughed. "Do I really?"

Ginny nodded, going a bit red in the face. She leaned away from Harry, her expression hardening.

"What's wrong?"

"I was thinking… My parents will be all right, won't they? They're pure bloods after all. He won't go after them, will he?"

"I don't know. They're loyal to Dumbledore. Ron said Wormtail told them Voldemort was going after half breed and Mudbloods…" Harry shrugged. "But, I don't think you can always trust _Voldemort_'s word."

"I just think that if maybe we're here over Christmas then Voldemort will leave them alone. Your vision was during Christmas at the Burrow. Not here. I just worry about my parents. Without them, we have nothing."

"They're like my parents, too, Gin. If anything happened to them the Order would take care of us. I'd protect you the best I could. I wouldn't let anything happen to you if I could help it."

Ginny looked at Harry. The sincerity in his eyes made her heart leap inside her chest.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

Ginny ran her hands through his messy black hair. She loved his hair. "You don't have to say it back, but I love you. And I want to help you fight Voldemort all I can."

Harry smiled sadly. He needed this closeness with Ginny. He needed to feel something other than hate and anger. He needed the distraction, the laughter, the love that she gave to him. He wanted to promise her nothing would happen to her parents, but he knew he couldn't protect them. He wanted to promise her Voldemort would never get her, but Tom already had once and Harry knew he might not be there if he tried again. He wanted to promise her that he'd love her forever, but he didn't even know if he'd live to see next term.

Forever seemed like such a beautiful thought. Harry didn't know what was worse, not living long enough to love Ginny until forever or never making the promise to even try.

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. She winced as her eyes took in the light from the morning.

"What time is it?" she murmured to herself. She sat up and looked around her room. Her room was cold. She rubbed her arms as she shivered. Her hands felt flannel. She looked down. She had completely forgotten wonderful, sweet, caring Ron. He had taken care of her last night when… when… Hermione felt the tears well up in her eyes again.

She looked down at her bed and saw a piece of parchment rolled up. It had her name on it written in Ron's sloppy, boyish handwriting. Her heart quickened as she unrolled it.

_Hermione:_

_I'm writing this hurriedly before first lesson. McGonagall asked me how you were today at breakfast. She said I didn't have to wake you up and that you were excused from lessons for the day. She said to see Madam Pomfrey if you need anything._

_I left you a piece of toast and some marmalade in case you get hungry. It's on your desk._

_I promise to take excellent notes for you in History of Magic._

_I hope I don't wake you up. I'll come see you during lunch break if I can._

_Love,_

_Ron_

Hermione smiled and wiped away the tears from her eyes. He was so good to her. She got up and took the piece of toast off her desk and chewed it. She barely felt hungry; she couldn't eat half of the toast.

Hermione was not the type of person to skive off classes. But, her head hurt, her nose was stuffy, and she couldn't go more than a minute without feeling the tears well up in her eyes. She was in no fit state to attend classes. She'd go tomorrow. She was certain her professors had been informed of her possible absence and the fact that Ron promised to take notes for her in History of Magic made her feel a bit better about missing lessons. She took a book from her desk that she had checked out of the library and laid back down in her bed and tried to read.

She was able to read a few pages before her mind gave up on her and she began to cry again. She hugged her pillow to her chest and felt so alone. She had no parents to go home to for Christmas. She had no house. Everything she owned at home was ruined. She only had her school things. Even with great best friends and a great boyfriend who would do anything at all to make her happy Hermione still felt alone.

She cried herself exhausted and fell back asleep. She didn't wake up until she felt someone shaking her shoulder lightly. She opened her eyes, her head still hurting, and noticed that the lights in her room were coming from candles. She had slept clear through the day. Ron was crouching by her bed, trying to wake her up.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi. I came by during lunch but you were sleeping. It's dinner time, now. Do you want to go down with me?"

Hermione nodded. She sat up and pushed the covers away from her. She went to her dresser and picked up her brush and combed through the massive tangles in her hair. Not feeling like taking a shower, Hermione just pulled her hair back into a bushy ponytail. She opened up he drawers and pulled out a clean blue jumper and jeans. She tossed them onto her bed and ran to Ron and threw her arms around his middle and hugged him tight.

Ron was taken slightly aback but hugged her back, kissing the top of her head. Hermione pulled back just a bit and looked up at him, her eyes wide and glassy.

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess. I didn't mean for you to have to take care of me all night."

Ron shook his head. "I didn't mind. I rather liked taking care of you."

"I owe you a lot."

"Well, the next time we row, just let me win."

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Thank you for your note. It was lovely as well."

"My note?" Ron shrugged. "It was nothing. I just didn't want you to freak out that you'd slept through first lesson."

Hermione leaned back into him, burying her head in his chest. Ron had no idea how much his simple gestures meant to her. His toast, his note taking, and even his "love, Ron" meant the world to her.

"You even gave me my favorite pajamas." Hermione looked up at him. "And you didn't even try to make a move."

Ron blushed.

Hermione pulled away and went to change out of her pajamas. Ron averted his eyes while she did so. She slipped her shoes on her feet and took in a deep breath.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes. Do I look too terrible?"

"Your nose is a little red, but I always think you're beautiful."

Hermione blushed and she loved him even more because she knew he meant it.

"You know, Hermione, I've been trying to think of how to tell you this all day. But, I reckon no matter how I say it I'll screw it up." Ron took in a deep breath and took her hands in his. "I have no idea what it's like to lose my parents – they've always been there for me. But, you're not alone. You can _always_ come and stay with us. My mother loves you. She reckons you're the reason I'm Head Boy."

Hermione smiled.

"You're a part of our family. We've all spent too many Christmases and summer holidays together – you, me, Harry, and my family – for you _not_ to be a part of it. After Hogwarts… you can come stay with us. I know it won't be a replacement for your parents and I reckon my mother is nothing like yours is… was… But, when we leave Hogwarts… well, I'll take care of you, too. I rather liked it last night. Kinda made me realize why my dad likes taking care of all of us. And, well, that's just what I wanted to say. You know, not to worry."

"Oh, Ron, that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Ron shrugged. His ears were beginning to turn red. "It's the truth. Look, Hermione, all I really want to do is love you and make you happy."

Hermione's breath stopped in the middle of her throat. "Love me?"

Ron turned a brighter shade of red. "Oh, well…" He hadn't even realized those were the words that had popped out of his mouth. "Well, I mean… I _do_… and that's what I want _to_ do until… well, until you don't want me to anymore…"

"You do?"

Ron shrugged again. "I… Oh, for the love of Merlin, Hermione, you _know_ I love you! It's just hard for a guy to say and I'm no good with words."

"Ron, you're lovely with words." Hermione stood on her tip toes to kiss Ron's lips. She smiled. "I love you, too."

The expression on Ron's face was one of disbelief. Hermione didn't know if he didn't believe her or if he didn't believe he was lovable.

"Don't look so shocked."

"Sorry."

Hermione led the way out of her bedroom and down the girls' dormitory steps to the common room. There they met Harry and Ginny who both seemed at a loss for words.

"I'm fine," Hermione said, answering the concerned look on their faces. "Or, I will be. Let's just go to dinner, shall we?"

Harry and Ginny nodded, thinking it sounded like a grand idea.

* * *

To Be Continued… 

**A/N: No cliffhanger this time but the final battle with Voldemort still looms ahead…**

**Oh, and please leave a Review for me!**


	14. Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Hermione eased back into her classes as though she hadn't missed any lessons. She and Ron seemed to be connected at the hip even tighter now and Harry could never get either of them alone. He was beginning to miss his best friends the way they were – especially Ron. Harry couldn't complain too much because he knew he spent plenty of time with Ginny. However, Ginny wasn't the same as Ron. He couldn't tackle her to the floor or punch her in the arm when she said something off colour. Of course the last time Harry had actually punched Ron it had left a bruise near his mouth…

Lupin was drilling them every single class about their shields not being strong enough and he took extra time to chastise Harry and Ron for not practicing their wandless magic. Hermione's strength at wandless magic seemed to grow a bit more each day until she was almost as good as Harry at it. Ron was still struggling with it.

Parvati was amazed every time Harry could hold out his hand and summon things straight into it or throw objects across the room with a single wave, his wand safely in his back pocket. She was highly impressed.

During the last week of November snow began to fall without any sign of stopping. Dumbledore enchanted the Great Hall to have snow fall from the sky, but disappear before it hit any of the tables. Hermione spent all of her extra time in the library except when she went down to the Great Hall for meals. She checked out countless books on Old Magic – and some on Arithmancy as the subject was fascinating to her. When she did go to Ron's room it was to study or real her library books next to him.

Ron stood at his window one Friday night watching the snow fall and shivering despite the contained fire Hermione had conjured up in the middle of his room. She was sitting on his bed surrounded by musty library books and looking thoroughly engrossed in whatever she was reading about. She still gave him a little snog everyday but Ron missed how they had been before her parents had died. He didn't want to bring the matter up for fear of starting another row with her, but it was killing him. He hadn't touched her in three weeks.

Ron had done her patrols for her since she was doing her research. He nicked Harry's map and snuck to the kitchens to filch some food from the elves. He even wrote his Charms essay, much to his chagrin since Hermione seemed too preoccupied to do anything else. But, now, nearly midnight Ron had run out of things to do and he wasn't the least bit tired. His mind wandered to thoughts of his friends.

Lavender had surely pulled Dean out to have a bit of a shag somewhere in the castle. Ever since they had gotten caught by poor Flitwick in the Room of Requirement, they had been looking for other places to do it where they wouldn't get caught.

Neville had been seen holding hands with Luna as of late and while Ron was certain they were both in their respective House dormitories, that didn't mean Neville hadn't gotten his chance to cop a feel earlier.

Harry and Ginny were certainly somewhere. Harry almost always took his map around everywhere with him, sticking it in his back pocket next to his wand. Ron was sure this was to ensure he and Ginny could sneak in and out of the common room without getting caught by any of the professors or Mrs. Norris. Seeing as how Seamus and Neville would be sleeping in Harry's room, they had most likely run off somewhere, taking the map with him.

Ron decided he had had enough. He loved her Hermione and he'd do anything for her, but his body was _aching_ to be close to her. She hadn't even stayed in his room on the weekends. A teeny-tiny small bit of Ron's brain kept thinking that perhaps Hermione didn't like him anymore. The rest of Ron's brain told that teeny-tiny small bit to shut up, that wasn't true. But, Ron, always feeling inadequate because of looks, money, and his brothers, tended to listen to that part of his brain more than the other.

Ron sat down on his bed and kissed Hermione's neck. She giggled.

"What're you doing?"

Ron leaned against his headboard. "I don't know. Are you staying here tonight?"

Hermione shrugged. She turned the page of her book. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes," Ron answered, almost too quickly. Hermione turned to look up at him.

"All right. Is something wrong?"

Ron shook his head. "I just miss having you here. I told you I sleep better when you're here. I dunno why. I just do."

Hermione gave him a little smile. "Yeah. Me too." She turned her attention back to her book.

Ron grew more frustrated still. He tried to kiss her neck again, but she pulled away.

"Ron! I'm trying to read."

Ron sighed. "That's all you do."

"I'm trying to help Harry."

"I know, but I haven't gotten to touch you in three weeks. You never stay in my room anymore. Do you even still like me?"

"Of course I still like you! I love you, you thick bloke." Hermione rolled her eyes. "There's just been a lot on my mind."

"I'm sure there is, all you do is read."

Hermione put down her book and stacked all the ones on the bed neatly on the floor next to it. She turned her body around to face Ron. She reached out and touched her hand to his cheek.

"You don't understand, Ron. Reading all these books helps take my mind off things. When I'm not reading or in paying attention in class I start to think about my parents and the final battle and Harry dying and you dying and who is going to die next. And I haven't been sleeping here at night because, well, to tell you the truth, I still cry myself to sleep."

Ron felt a surge of guilt hit him square in the chest. He frowned. He _was_ a thick bloke. He felt terrible of ever doubting her. He pulled her to him and hugged her tight.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have thought…"

"I'm sorry, too. I should've told you."

"You can always cry yourself to sleep here. I wouldn't mind."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks."

Ron pulled her in his lap and bend down to kiss her. It felt so good to kiss her. He scooted down away from the headboard and laid back, Hermione resting fully on top of him. She shifted her weight and tugged him over – she never did like being on top. He settled himself on her, feeling her wrap her legs around him. Ron removed her tie and unbuttoned her uniform shirt. Ron signed into her mouth and moved his hands to cup her breasts.

Hermione tried to shift her weight again, but when she did she pressed herself against Ron's pelvis and he shuddered at the feeling of her against him. Hermione noticed his reaction and felt her face grow hot with embarrassment. Ron had his eyes closed, though, and didn't notice her change in colour.

Then, feeling a bit bold, Hermione tugged at the bottom of his school jumper, trying to get it up over his head. Ron lifted himself up from her and pulled it off in one swift motion. His eyes looked in Hermione's for a moment and she could see the glints of hope dancing inside them. He bent back down and pressed his mouth against hers once more.

As Ron massaged her breasts – obviously enjoying himself beyond Hermione's comprehension – they were _only_ breasts after all – she slid the knot of his tie down and began to unbutton his shirt. She slid it back off his shoulders and ran her hands over his chest. She had seen him without a shirt on many times before – usually because during the summers he didn't wear one to bed – but _feeling_ him without his shirt on was something completely different.

Ron ran his hand down her side, feeling the flesh of her hips with the back of his hand. He removed his mouth from hers and relocated it to her neck. Hermione heard him whisper "I love you" in her ear and she felt the tears well up in her eyes because she knew he did. He didn't say it very often – only one other time since his initial declaration – but, Hermione didn't care. The fact that he only told her when she needed to hear it most made her feel like he was all the more sincere about it. When his voice didn't say it, his eyes told her – they way he watched her write her essays or read in her Ancient Runes book. Or, his actions would tell her when he took notes for her in class or brought her a sandwich from the Great Hall when she skipped lunch. She never asked him to. He just always thought she might be hungry. And even if she wasn't she always ate it because it meant something to her.

The tears, now, in her eyes were because she had no idea anyone could love her with such honesty, as if it would be unnatural _not_ to love her. Ron had been so good to her in the past few weeks, taking care of her when she was too upset to take care of herself. She wanted to take care of him as well.

Hermione's feeling of boldness increased. She pushed against Ron and pushed him over to the other side of the bed on his back. She shrugged off her already unbuttoned shirt and reached around to unhook her bra as she settled her weight half on top of him, kissing his mouth. Ron's pulse quickened almost dangerously fast. His hands went straight back to her unclad breasts as she slid a hand down his chest to the waist band of his pants. She undid the belt of his uniform pants with ease, and went next to the buttons and zipper. She felt along the cotton of his boxers and her own pulse quickened dangerously.

Hermione felt her stomach lodge itself in her throat. She had to steady her hands as her fingers glided down past his waistband and felt along his smooth flesh. Ron stirred underneath her touch and reached around to the back of her neck to pull her more towards him, deepening their kiss. Hermione pulled at Ron's uniform pants slightly, bringing them down just low enough she could steal a quick look at him. She had never seen one before his and almost stopped doing what she was doing to marvel at the oddity of it as she had the last time she stole a peek at it. Hermione regained her bearings and slipped herself away from Ron's mouth and all the way down his chest, past his hips.

* * *

Neville and Seamus were playing Exploding Snap down in the common room. Seamus was trying to swindle some of the first years out of a few Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pasties. Neville was there to share in Seamus' fortunes as Neville was the best at Exploding Snap since Fred and George. Dean was… well, who knew where Dean was.

Harry and Ginny jumped on the chance to spend some time alone in the dormitory. They snuck down to the kitchens and Dobby gave them a tray of hot chocolate and hot apple tarts. They went back to Harry's room and sat on his bed to eat. Harry laid down, feeling a bit tired. Ginny sat up next to him, playing with his hair, and eating the rest of the apple treats.

An unfamiliar owl hooted and scraped its wings against the windows. Ginny stood up and opened the window letting snow and cold wind inside. She closed the window quickly. She took the scroll of paper tied to the little owl's leg and looked at it.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "It's for me!"

"Who knew you were up in my dorm?" Harry asked.

Ginny looked at the front of the scroll. "Ginny Weasley / Wherever Harry Potter Is / Hogwarts School." Ginny sniggered. "Amusing. It's Angelina's handwriting. She's either writing to tell me she's killed Fred or…"

"Or, what?"

Ginny smiled, more to herself. She unrolled the parchment and hopped back on Harry's bed. She began to read her letter. After a moment she let out a girlish squeal. Harry had long grown accustomed to the sounds girls made. He simply raised his eyebrows at her.

"Fred _finally_ did it!"

"Did what?"

Ginny rolled her eyes playfully. "Asked Angelina to marry him!" Ginny's eyes were reading over the parchment with incredible speed. "George is absolutely furious, she says. She had to write to me and thank me for convincing her not to do anything rash." Ginny looked up at Harry. "You know… when Fred was working seven days a week to save up for a ring? She was furious with him and couldn't figure out what his problem was? I told her to calm down and give Fred a few weeks and he'd calm down as well." Ginny smiled. "And he did!"

"What's your mum going to say?"

Ginny shrugged. "I think she likes Angelina. I don't know as if she's met her too many times. Mum always loves a good wedding. She'll be thrilled to be mother of the groom _again_. I doubt they'll get married before Percy does. Still, it's rather exciting, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

Ginny frowned. "You're such a boy."

Harry laughed and nodded. "Yes, I am."

"I think weddings are exciting. I can't wait for this one. Angelina's the _best_. It'll be nice to have a sister who actually talks to me."

"You don't ever talk to Charlie's wife or Fleur?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Charlie's off in Romania still. Fleur is a bit stuck up, don't you think? She and I don't converse."

"So, what's George got to say about it?"

Ginny glanced over the letter again. "He just doesn't want to live in their flat alone. I think George might actually be a permanent bachelor. He never stays with anyone long enough. Although, he does seem to go back to Alicia an awful lot. He and Fred have always done everything together. Now, Fred's started doing things by himself; he's living a life separate form George."

"Hey… come here…"

Ginny leaned forward. "What?"

Harry reached out with his hand and wiped away a small bit of apple on the corner of Ginny's mouth with his thumb. "You had a bit of that tart on your lip."

Ginny took Harry's wrist in her hand, looking at his thumb. She licked the apple from his finger. Harry took in a sharp breath. The simple gesture reminded him how good Ginny's mouth felt on him. Ginny released his wrist and stood up.

"I'm going to go tell Ron. Coming?"

Harry sighed and nodded. He stood up, not bothering to find his shoes. He walked up the stairs with Ginny to Ron's room. He leaned back against the wall opposite the room, his hands in his pockets. He waited for Ron to open the door.

* * *

Hermione pulled away and Ron felt dizzy. She sat up and glanced at him nervously. Ron's eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy. He finally opened up his eyes and looked at her. He gave her a wide smile and pulled her down next to him and hugged her close. He nuzzled her neck and ran his fingers back and forth over her breasts.

"My turn," Ron said, his voice laced with anxiousness and excitement. He leaned down to kiss her breasts and felt her fingers twist themselves in his hair.

A knock on the door made him pull away for a moment.

"Ignore it," Ron muttered, settling back down between her breasts.

Another knock.

Ron groaned in frustration. He looked up at Hermione. "Should I answer it?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's your room."

Ron shook his head. He went to kiss her mouth when there was a third knock. Annoyed, Ron stood up from his bed. He tossed Hermione a shirt from the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. He buttoned up his uniform pants, not even bothering with the belt. He opened the door and leaned against the doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"This better be _really_ good," Ron snapped.

Ginny smiled brightly at him. She looked behind him at Hermione who was standing up next to the bed, smoothing out her hair.

"Shirt's a bit big for you, isn't it, then?" Ginny asked, her voice full of amusement.

Ron looked back at her and almost sniggered himself. He must have accidentally thrown her his shirt instead of her own. He turned back to his sister.

"_What_?" he asked. He glanced at Harry, who was leaning back against the stone wall, looking rather amused.

Ginny pushed Ron inside his room and entered. Harry followed, avoiding Ron's eye. She handed Ron Angelina's letter. He read it slowly, as Ron always read a bit slow. When he was finished he raised his eyes from the parchment to Ginny's.

"You came here to show me this?"

"I thought it was exciting," Ginny said, suddenly feeling a bit downcast.

Ron shrugged. "I dunno… It was bound to happen sooner or later, yeah?"

"I guess. Angelina could have always said no, you know."

"Angelina wasn't going to say no and you know it."

"What's going on?" Hermione asked.

Ginny smiled again. "Fred's asked Angelina to marry him!"

"Oh!" Hermione cried out. "That _is_ exciting! How'd he do it?"

Ron read over the letter again as Ginny told Hermione.

"Well, she'd been owling me a little while back 'cause Fred's been spending seven days a week working in the shop. She wasn't sure what was going on. She only knew she was _never_ seeing Fred. But, he told me he was saving up for a ring. And _I_ told her not to fret. Anyway, this morning he told her he had taken the entire day off of work and wanted to spend it with her. So, he took her out to breakfast and took her out to lunch and I dunno what they did all day…"

"I bet I do," Ron muttered under his breath.

"So, they went walking around London near Fred's flat and when the bill came for dinner Fred pretended to search his pockets saying 'where is it? Where is it?' Angelina said she thought he meant his wallet and offered to pay, even though she knows that Weasley boys have a thing against…" Ginny glanced at her brother before rushing on. "Well, a thing against other people paying for them because we're poor – anyway! He just says 'ah! There it is!' and pulled out a ring box and handed it to her."

Hermione seemed to melt. "That is so like Fred."

"Angelina said she almost cried."

"Oh! I bet she did!"

Harry looked at the parchment in Ron's hands. "_All_ that was in that letter?"

Ginny turned around and gave Harry a cold look. "She has small handwriting! Why do you look like you're sulking?"

Harry straightened up. "I'm not."

"Well, we'll let you get back to whatever it is we interrupted. G'night!" Ginny pulled Harry out of Ron's room and Ron shut the door behind them.

"That's great news, isn't it, Ron?"

Ron looked up at Hermione. "Yeah, I guess." He tossed the parchment on his desk and flopped down on his bed, flinging his arm over his face, covering his eyes. She settled down next to him.

"I'm kind of tired," she said, forcing a yawn. She hugged Ron around his middle. "Shall I go fetch my pajamas?"

Ron hugged her back. He sighed a contented little sigh. "No, you can borrow my pajama shirt. It's on the desk… somewhere…"

Hermione untangled herself from Ron and got up off the bed. She walked over to the desk and saw Ron's pajamas flung over the back of his chair. She unbuttoned her shirt and put on Ron's. She took off her socks and skirt. Ron's pajama shirt was long enough that it came down to almost her knees. Her arms became lost in the sleeves and Ron smiled when she put to push them up to pick up her wand.

"_Colloportus_," Hermione said, waving the wand at the door.

The door gave an odd squelching noise that they had become accustomed to ever since learning the spell in fifth year. Hermione picked up Ron's pajama bottoms from the desk and offered them to him. He got up and took them and changed.

"Do you want me to relight the fire?" Hermione asked.

The fire in the middle of the room was almost out.

"No, it's okay. I have plenty of blankets." Ron got back and in bed and pulled the covers around him and Hermione. She snuggled in next to him. His breath caught in his throat as her fingers drew invisible circles slowly across his bare chest as she breathed steadily against him. He didn't understand how the little things she did could make him feel so much.

* * *

Harry and Ginny walked back down the stairs. Harry peered in his dormitory. The curtains around Neville and Seamus' beds were drawn.

"Sorry," Harry said, frowning.

"It's all right. I could use a right good sleep in my own room." Ginny smiled. She reached up and wrapped her arms around Harry's neck. "Besides, after last night I _am_ a bit knackered."

Harry turned bright red. Yes, last night had been great – the best yet, as far as he was concerned. He couldn't get enough of the way she felt around him. It still embarrassed him, though, when she told him she liked it, too. He felt a bit removed from their sex – as if it happened but it was something they never talked about.

"Hey," Harry said, "do I get to go to Fred's wedding?"

Ginny's lips curled up in a smile. "I reckon you'll have to be my date."

Harry smiled back. "Yeah, I reckon that, too." He bent down to kiss her.

They separated and Harry went into his dormitory and changed into his pajamas. Seamus stuck his head out from his bed curtains.

"You guys should talk louder next time," he said. "It's hard to eavesdrop when I can't hear what you're saying."

Harry threw a pillow at Seamus who caught it and tossed it back. Harry laid down in his bed and quickly fell asleep. He drifted in and out of sleep until a searing pain shot through his forehead and caused him to wake up in a hot sweat. He expected to see his bed curtains drawn around him, but he didn't. He was no longer in the boys' seventh year room. Harry groaned as the pain grew more intense. He knew he was having another vision.

* * *

To Be Continued…  
A/N: I don't know why tabs aren't working for my paragraphs anymore. It's beginning to annoy me. Anyway, I didn't read back over this chapter to make sure there were no grammarical mistakes or any of that (I just wanted to get it posted) so if there are any mistakes I'm sorry. R/R! Thanks. :) 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Harry looked at his surroundings. He was in a bedroom somewhere… It looked oddly familiar but he couldn't place it. The bed looked slept in but it was now empty. Everything was silent. Harry walked out of the room and into the hall. Ah! He was in Grimmauld Place. Down the stairs he went into another bedroom. The room was torn to pieces. The pillows and blankets were shredded, the curtains torn from the windows, and the furniture tipped over. Harry went back out of the room and down the stairs. He could hear nothing in the house. His pulse quickened and he felt fear pump through his veins.

He went into what he knew was Lupin's bedroom. The room was also ransacked and a green haired witch lay half on, half off the bed, her eyes staring off into nothing, her body stiff. Harry backed out of the room slowly, not watching behind him as he tripped over something on the floor. His heart began to race faster as he looked down.

Mad-Eye Moody lay on the floor, near the stairs, wand in hand, magical eye a few feet away from him. Behind Moody was Elphias Doge, just as dead as the other two. Harry walked around the bodies and dashed down the stairs.

In the living room the couch was tipped over and on the ground lay two members of the Order of the Phoenix – Emmeline Vance and Dedalus Diggle. Harry was sure they were dead, too. Their robes were ripped and torn, as was the couch, but there was no blood anywhere that Harry could see. Going into the kitchen Harry saw something that made his heart completely stop. On the ground lay a wolf, dead, bits of fabric stuck between his claws. Standing above him, with a wand pointing down at him, stood Voldemort – black cloak, red eyes, sneering smile, pale skin.

And, then Harry heard the only sound he heard in the whole house – Voldemort's laugh. It only lasted for a couple of seconds before the Dark Lord Disapparated, leaving Harry alone in a house full of two dead witches, three dead wizards, and one very special werewolf.

* * *

Hermione woke up as the sun streamed in through Ron's bedroom windows. She yawned and stretched and turned over to look at sleeping Ron. His mouth was open slightly and he looked peaceful, his chest heaving up and down as he took in quick breaths. Hermione smiled. She snuggled in next to him and felt him stir.

"Morning," Hermione said.

Ron rubbed his eyes. He opened them, blinked a few times, and turned his head to look at her. He smiled and turned on his side and pulled her close, hugging her to him. He rested his head on top of her head.

"Are you going back to sleep?" Hermione asked.

"Mm hmm," Ron answered.

"But, what about breakfast?"

"Tired," Ron responded.

"You don't want breakfast? But, it's food!"

Ron didn't say anything. She was sure he was starting to doze off again. Her stomach growled. She wanted breakfast.

"Ron?"

No Answer.

"Ron!"

Ron's eyes flew open. "What?"

"Do you want breakfast? I'm hungry."

Ron yawned. He blinked a few times and drank in Hermione's appearance – her tangled hair, curled up body, his pajama top. He smiled at her and kissed on her neck.

"I didn't get my turn last night," Ron said.

Hermione blushed. Ron undid the buttons to his pajama top and his hands immediately flew to Hermione's breasts. She gasped as Ron used his other hand to push down her knickers and sink his fingers into her.

"How can you be so randy before breakfast?"

Ron laughed against her neck and Hermione writhed underneath his touch in pleasure and pain. He kissed down her shoulder, her breasts, her stomach. He went to take off her knickers. Hermione tried to protest but he slapped her hand away. She jumped back in surprise but allowed Ron to continue what he was doing.

"Relax," he said to her… which seemed like he said to her every time. He dropped her knickers to the floor and ran his hands up the back of her calves to her thighs. She looked at him, her eyes full of confusion and anxiety. He wasn't looking at her face; he was slowly trying to part her knees. When she finally allowed him to do so, with a little bit of fear, he kissed her inner thigh and dipped his tongue inside of her. Hermione tried to resist but he wouldn't let her. She was tense and uncomfortable but when she realized Ron wasn't going to stop she relaxed and allowed herself to enjoy it.

Ron could tell she was holding back – she was making those little sounds in the back of her throat and soon began to whisper instructions to him like she had before. When he felt her tense up involuntarily and shudder, he knew he had done well. He crawled up and laid down next to her.

"Why won't you look at me?" he asked.

"I'm embarrassed," Hermione answered truthfully.

"Embarrassed? Why? You did it to me last night."

Hermione shrugged. "Let's get some breakfast."

"Hermione! You have to look at me first."

Hermione shook her head.

"You're just never going to look at me ever again?" Ron groaned in frustration when Hermione shrugged. "Don't be like that. Please? _Please_? I promise I shall never do it again if you don't want me to."

Hermione murmured something inaudible.

"What?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "I said, no, I might want you to."

A sly smile crossed Ron's face. "Cool."

"Cool?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, that part of you is the best. I wish I could do that all the time."

This time Hermione really _was_ embarrassed. She blushed brightly and Ron chuckled and gave her a tight hug.

"I never want to do something that you _really_ don't want to do. Honest."

"For heaven's sake, Ron, I know. Part of me is just still unsure about everything that's happening with this… us… I don't know how to do things and I don't know what is too fast. All I know is that Voldemort might kill us all and I don't want to die wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"What things could have been like if I was only a bit less nervous."

"Oh." Ron swallowed. "Right. This, what we're doing, isn't too fast. Let's keep it here for a while."

Hermione sighed, a little relieved. The truth was that Ron said it partially for her because he knew she was nowhere near ready to have sex, but he also said it partially for him, too, because _he_ was nowhere ready to have sex. Even with the thought that Voldemort could kill either one of them looming over his head, he still didn't feel right about it. He felt a little ashamed, knowing that Fred and George were bonking in their sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts, and knowing that most other guys (Harry included) didn't feel the need to wait. Perhaps wanting to wait made him a little less than a man. Luckily, Ron could hide behind the fact that Hermione wasn't ready for this final plunge if anyone should ask. He knew at some point Harry would hint at it because as much as Harry didn't want to know, he couldn't keep himself from asking.

"Do you want breakfast?" Hermione asked.

"I'll sneak down to the kitchens before lunch if I get hungry. I really want to go back to sleep. I still feel knackered."

Hermione sighed and got up from the bed. She opened Ron's door and went back to her room to take a shower and change clothes. She emerged from the shower feeling refreshed. She took out a heavy jumper and jeans from her trunk and put them on. She left Ron in his room sleeping while she walked down the stairs to the common room.

Harry was the only one in the room. He looked terrible, as if he had a high fever.

"Harry! Are you all right? What's wrong?"

"I had a vision last night." Harry pushed up his hair away from his forehead. His scar was bright red, red enough to look like a bloodied up lightning bolt.

"Tell me," Hermione said, forgetting all about breakfast and not feeling hungry any longer.

Harry told her about the massacre at Grimmauld Place. Hermione's eyes widened in horror and her hand involuntarily flew to her mouth.

"But, how can that be? Voldemort shouldn't be able to get inside Sirius' old house."

"I have no idea."

"Are you doing Occlumency?"

Harry nodded.

Hermione gave him a stern look.

"I am!" Harry closed his eyes, wincing in pain. "I need to talk to Ginny."

"Ginny? Shouldn't you go straight to Lupin or McGonagall?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Ginny. I'm right tired of talking to professors all the bloody time."

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Just go on to breakfast, Hermione. I'll be down in a few minutes. I'm supposed to meet Ginny here anyway."

Hermione, not sure what to do, walked slowly to the portrait hole. She went out into the corridors and stood for a moment outside of the portrait of the Fat Lady. She turned left, the opposite way to the Great Hall. She found herself in front of Lupin's office door. It was a weekend and Hermione knew that Lupin slept late, often skipping breakfast all together. She knocked, taking a chance that he might be up this early.

A tired looking Lupin opened the door in shabby pajamas with holes in the elbows. He looked at Hermione and nodded.

"I should have known it was you."

Hermione blushed. "Please, sir, I didn't mean to wake you, but I wasn't sure what else to do."

"Come in." Lupin ushered Hermione into his office. He sat behind the desk while she took a seat in his empty chair.

"Not five minutes ago Harry told me he had a vision about Voldemort in Grimmauld Place. He killed three wizards, two witches, and one…" Hermione hesitated, but went on, "werewolf."

"One werewolf?" Lupin repeated, flinching slightly. He sat up straighter. "Did Harry see how Voldemort got inside the Order Headquarters?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so. I told him he should come straight you to or McGonagall but he wanted to talk to Ginny first and I don't know if he was planning on telling you at all." Hermione bit at her lower lip. "It's the second vision Harry's had this year and he promised me he was practicing his Occlumency. I just don't understand why Voldemort killed my parents – they weren't magical at all. _I'm_ the one who is the Mudblood, not them. So, now I am even more confused with what Voldemort's plan is because Harry said the witches and wizards in his vision were pure bloods – as far as he knows, anyway."

"You can never be certain."

Hermione swallowed. "He said one of the witches was Tonks…" Her voice was very low. "And I know she's a pure blood on the Black family tree."

Lupin took in a sharp breath. "That she is… Does Harry know _when_ his vision took place? Is it during Christmas like his first?"

"I don't know. Perhaps I should have let Harry come to you. I am just so worried about everyone. Without the Order, we're all lost. Especially me seeing as how I have no parents anymore." Hermione resisted the urge to cry. She hadn't cried in three full days and she didn't want to start again now.

"I wish I could tell you exactly why Voldemort went after your parents. I daresay to show his power. He wanted to hurt Harry by hurting those closest to him. Unfortunately, those closest to him are here at Hogwarts where Voldemort can't get to them. The next best thing is to make Harry's loved ones weak. And, I daresay you have been weaker these past few weeks?"

Hermione nodded. "I don't mean to be. I didn't want to be. I just didn't know how I was supposed to react to everything. It was so unexpected. And _both_ my parents…"

"Have you figured out what the vial of blood means exactly yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "That hadn't really been my focus."

Lupin nodded and folded his hands together in his lap. "I believe it's to reinstate what Voldemort is spreading around as doctrine: that blood is everything and only the pure bloods deserve to live. He feeds this propaganda to his Death Eaters and they consume it as truth. Voldemort wants to wipe out anyone who is the slightest bit tainted. That would include half-Muggles, full Muggles, such as your parents, and half-breeds, such as Hagrid. Even though I am a full wizard I daresay I'm also tainted because I am a werewolf."

"If Voldemort went after every full Muggle he would be trying to wipe out most of the world's population… wouldn't he?"

Lupin nodded. "That's what makes the Order so important. That's what makes _Harry_ so important. If Harry can't stop Voldemort then it's only a matter of time before we're all dead upon the floor by the hand of the Dark Lord."

Hermione only managed to make it to the last ten minutes of breakfast. Harry and Ginny were about to leave but decided to wait and eat with Hermione instead.

"Ron hasn't come down," Harry told Hermione.

"He was sleeping last time I saw him."

Ginny leaned in close over the table. "Hermione, what did you make of Harry's vision?"

Hermione stopped eating, forkful of eggs halfway to her mouth. "Well, I was talking to Lupin about it—"

"You talked to Lupin?" Harry snapped, annoyed. "It wasn't your place to talk to Lupin, Hermione."

"You certainly weren't."

"You don't understand!" Harry barked.

"No, _you_ don't understand. _I_ need to figure out what's going on with Voldemort now for my own sake as well as yours. Now, he's killed my parents as well and it'll drive me mad until I know he's stopped." The look on Harry's face told Hermione he didn't understand. "I know how I've felt the past few weeks about my parents. They're the only close loved ones I've had to ever die. If Voldemort is going to continue killing people until he reaches you then that means other people are going to feel just as rotten as I have. In case you haven't noticed I'm fairly clever and I can figure things out. If I can help figure out what Voldemort's plan is… then I can help stop this."

"It's _my_ job to stop this."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't even pretend that you could have beaten Voldemort all those times in the past without my help." She sat up straighter. "Or Ron's or Ginny's for that matter."

Harry glanced away. Hermione was right and he knew it.

Ginny had looked rather relieved when Hermione divulged she had told Lupin. Now, she was leaning closer to Hermione.

"What did Lupin say?" the red haired girl asked.

Hermione replayed her entire conversation with Lupin for Ginny and Harry. Neither of them spoke when Hermione was through. They both stared at Hermione, shocked.

"I can't believe, though, that Lupin thinks Voldemort might try to wipe out the Muggle race," Ginny said when she spoke at last.

"Well, it makes sense," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Voldemort only likes pure-bloods. To him Muggles are dirty."

"Sounds like Malfoy," Harry muttered.

"Well, he _is_ part of the Black family and his father _is_ a Death Eater. What do you expect?" Ginny asked. "I want to how we can change your vision, Harry. The order would take a hard hit losing all those members."

"Not to mention _us_," Hermione added. "Lupin's my favorite professor. I think he's brilliant."

Harry nodded. "As do I. He's the only link left I have to my parents."

"But, I don't know how to stop Voldemort from getting to Grimmauld Place unless the Order relocates its Headquarters."

Ginny shook her head. "They can't do that. There's too much magic surrounding Grimmauld Place as it is. Charms and wards and things. It would take them too much valuable time to find a place and then make it so nobody can find it or get in it."

"Maybe you're right," Hermione said. "I doubt any of them could find the time to do such a thing. But, then _how_ do we stop it?"

"Simple," Harry said. "I find Voldemort before he can find Grimmauld Place."

* * *

To Be Continued…  
  
A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update. For some reason I couldn't log on to for about a day and then I worked for the weekend.  
  
Let's get those reviews to reach at least 100! It's so close! You know you wanna review so just do it.  



	16. Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

McGonagall went around with a list for everyone to sign who was going to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas holiday. Harry and Ginny immediately signed up before owling Mrs. Weasley to let her know. Hermione signed because she felt safe from Voldemort at Hogwarts with Dumbledore around. Ron signed up because there was no way he was spending a holiday with his family without his girlfriend or best friend. He didn't want to endure the endless taunts from the twins or lectures and safe talks from his parents.

Hermione out searched the library. She didn't find anything else that could even come close to helping Harry defeat Voldemort.

"I wish I could have found something. There was just… nothing."

"It's all right, Hermione," Harry said.

They were all sitting in the common room the day everyone left for the holiday. The couple weeks just before the break was busy. Snape seemed to be worse about grading essays – Hermione even got an A, her lowest grade yet. Lupin became a tyrant about shield spells and McGonagall yelled louder than Harry had ever heard her when he couldn't conjure up a dog from a rock. At least Binns' classes were normal and Harry and Ron were able to catch up on sleep while Hermione took notes.

Hermione yawned. "I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed."

"I'll go up with you," Ron said. "See you two tomorrow."

When Ron and Hermione were safely upstairs Ginny turned to Harry and smiled. "Let's go up, too," she said.

Harry nodded. "All right."

They walked up the stairs to the seventh year dorm. Ginny shut the door and waved her wand, sealing it. She added a silence charm on the room as well – just for good measure. She, then, dropped her wand and jumped into Harry's arms. She forgot all about foreplay and romance. She stripped Harry of his clothes as he stripped her. He walked over to his bed with Ginny's legs wrapped around his middle. He sat her down and laid on top of her, immediately pressing in her. He drew himself in and out, Ginny matching him move for move. It was hard, fast, and desperate. Harry touched Ginny more deeply than he had before and when she cried out it was in both pleasure and pain. He lifted her legs up and over her shoulder and she cried out again. He let her legs down only when he came. He didn't pull out of her, but collapsed on top of her, breathing hard and sweating.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's okay." Ginny played with his hair.

"I just…"

"Harry… shhh…"

"No, I just need to say that I didn't mean to be rough."

"Do you feel better?"

Harry nodded.

"Less tense?"

Harry nodded again.

"Then, don't apologize."

Harry lifted his head from her chest and looked at her. He smoothed the hair away from her face and took in a deep breath.

"Gin…"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Ginny smiled.

"Honest."

"I believe you, Harry," she said. She reached around and hugged him to her.

They dozed off like that – Harry resting on top of Ginny, hugging each other, naked, and tired.

* * *

Further up the stairs Hermione and Ron laid in Ron's bed talking. They were both laid out on their sides, facing one another. It was their ritual. They'd snog and fool around and then launch into conversations that could last for hours. It felt so good to talk to her. He felt closer and closer to her every time. It was as if they'd never run out of things to say.

"Maybe I'll be an Auror as well," Hermione mused. "I could stop Dark Wizards before they turned into the next Voldemort. I would learn loads of stuff."

"That's the real reason you want to do it, isn't it? Learning loads of new stuff."

"Ha, ha. Do you still want to be an Auror?"

"I don't know. I don't really know what I want. Fred and George said I could work in their shop part time if I wanted to. They're planning on opening up another one in Hogsmeade to compete with Zonko's. I think Fred and George's shop might be more popular."

"Zonko's doesn't have Skiving Snackboxes."

Ron laughed and shook his head. "No, they don't. Fred might work full time at the one in Hogsmeade. He and George aren't getting along too well lately. There's a first time for everything I suppose."

"Is it because of Angelina?"

"I don't know. Ginny's the one that told me they're not getting along. I don't write to them very much. But, I was thinking I might work in their shop for a bit until I figure out what I want to do. I don't know if I'll get the NEWTs to be Auror. They require O's in almost everything. Getting an O in Potions or Transfiguration is almost impossible."

"Oh, don't say that. It's not impossible. You just have to study."

"Studying is your thing, Hermione. I'm no good at it."

"You are lazy is all."

Ron shrugged. He reached out and tucked some of Hermione's bushy hair behind her ear. "It doesn't matter what I do. Once you get your Apparation License we can visit each other whenever we want to if we're both not at the Burrow."

"Apparation License," Hermione repeated. "Ho, I forget I'm seventeen now and can get that…"

"Harry and I have ours."

"I'm always a bit behind. You feel so much older than I do."

"Only six months," Ron protested. "That's not much older! That's practically the same age."

"But, you've had your Apparation License since when? June? I haven't even begun to _train_ for that."

"It only took me a day to get it down. Although, it was rather hard the first time I went from home to London."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "How long do you suppose you'll live at the Burrow after Hogwarts?"

Ron shrugged. "Until I find a paying job and can get a flat I suppose. Do Aurors-in-Training get paid?"

"I don't know."

"Why?"

Hermione didn't answer.

"Hermione, why?"

"Oh, because the Burrow isn't _my_ home. I don't know how long I can really stay there because I'll always feel like a guest. I don't know how much my parents left me when they died. I don't know how much I'll have in Wizard Gold when I exchange their money for Knuts and Sickles and Galleons. I hope to have enough to get a flat until I secure a job. I don't want to be a burden on your family."

"You wouldn't be!" Ron insisted. "You know you wouldn't be. We want you there. _I_ want you there. Harry'll probably be there as well and I'll need someone to keep me calm when he and Ginny go missing."

Hermione laughed and smiled. "That's true."

Ron leaned over to kiss Hermione when the door to his bedroom sprang open, even though it had a Colloportus charm on it. Ron and Hermione sat up and flew away from each other as their hearts leapt. Ron pushed Hermione behind his back to protect her from the two large Death Eaters that were standing in the doorway. He reached under his pillow for his wand but he wasn't quick enough. The Death Eater stunned him and Ron fell backwards on Hermione.

The Death Eaters levitated Ron up and started to take him out of the room. Hermione grabbed her own wand and pointed it at the Death Eaters.

"Put him down!" she shouted. She threw a hex at them but they were able to shield themselves from it.

"We don't want you," one of the Death Eaters said to her. He threw the same hex at her but Hermione was able to block it. As she tried to protect herself Ron was taken out of the room. Hermione threw her feet into the pair of sneakers that had been discarded earlier. She didn't both to find socks or lace up the shoes. She flew down the stairs and ran right into Harry coming out of his room.

Hermione was out of breath. "Did you see?"

Harry nodded. "They came into my room and pulled Ginny away. I didn't have my wand on me. They were able to throw me with a spell clear across the room." He looked at Hermione. "I dunno about you but I'm following them."

Harry and Hermione, both wearing pajamas – although Harry's looked haphazardly thrown on – ran through the school corridors and pushed out the front doors. They past by a disgruntled looking Grey Lady who was gliding towards the lake. Harry stopped running and looked around the grounds. He spotted the Womping Willow and Hagrid's uninhabited hut. Then, his eyes flew to the ground gates. His heart sped up.

Hermione nodded and took off at a run at the same time Harry did. They ran until they met the Hogwarts train tracks. Hermione looked around but she couldn't see anything. She took off at another run down the tracks. Harry immediately followed. Both of them ran until they were out of breath and aching.

"I think I hear something," Harry panted out. "But I can't see…"

"_Lumos_," Hermione said. She looked down the winding tracks in the opposite direction of Hogwarts. She could see the faint outline of people ahead. She pointed it out to Harry. They were both about to set off at another run when hands caught them by the necks of their shirts. They spun around to look into the faces of Snape and Lupin.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Snape growled lowly.

Harry struggled against Snape's grip and managed to free himself. "Death Eaters took Ron and Ginny. They're down the tracks."

Snape's eyes flew past his two students to the tracks behind them. He lit up the end of his wand and nodded at Lupin. They began to run down the tracks. Harry and Hermione followed. Their view was partially blocked by their two teachers ahead of them, but it didn't completely hinder Harry and Hermione from seeing four Death Eaters Disapparate with two Weasleys.

Snape and Lupin came to a halt. Harry heard expletives muttered under Snape's breath.

"But…" Hermione panted. "You can't Apparate near Hogwarts."

An expression of annoyance flashed across Snape's face. "We're far away from Hogwarts now."

Hermione looked behind her. Indeed, she couldn't even see the school from there. She looked back at her two professors, feeling the water rise up in her eyes.

"Where are they?"

Harry immediately let out a tight groan, his hands pressed tightly up against his forehead. He saw it. A flash of light before his eyes. A veil lightly fluttering against the air in a cold room in London.

"The Department of Mysteries," Harry said, his vision blurred as the pain in his head had yet to recede.

Lupin looked confused. "Why would they take them there?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. That's just what I saw. The veil where Sirius…" Harry's voice trailed off. He wet his lips. "It's the place where Voldemort knows I'll be the weakest."

"But, Harry, why?" Hermione asked.

Harry turned to look at her. "It's where Sirius died… I…"

Harry didn't have to finish; Hermione nodded and he stopped talking.

"I have to Apparate there," Harry told Snape and Lupin.

"We'll come with you," Lupin said.

"But," Hermione said, "I can't Apparate."

The two professors looked at each other. A silent agreement seemed to pass between them.

"I'll go with Harry," Lupin said. He looked at Hermione. "You stay with Snape and get to the Department as soon as you can."

Hermione nodded. "All right."

Harry, grateful he was going to be traveling with Lupin instead of Snape, almost smiled. He and Lupin looked at one another and Apparated at the same moment.

* * *

It didn't take Harry and Lupin long to run through the Ministry to the Department of Mysteries. Harry remembered his way around the Department as if he worked there every single day. It was a memory that played in his dreams like a broken record or a CD stuck on repeat. He never told anyone, except for Ginny, but the dreams about Sirius and the Department of Mysterious were played in his subconscious with almost eerie consistency.

Voldemort was waiting for them by the veil.

Harry and Lupin ran into the room, wands raised. Death Eaters flew at them yelling various spells. Harry felt his wand fly out of his hand as Death Eaters held on to his arms to keep him from running. Voldemort laughed. He had Ron in one hand and Ginny in the other. Neither of them were struggling but from the looks on their faces Harry knew they were coherent. He didn't know what kind of spell Voldemort had put them under.

"Let them go," Harry murmured.

"Tsk, tsk, Harry," Voldemort said. "Don't you want to hear my plan?"

"No."

Voldemort launched on with his speech as if he hadn't heard Harry.

"I know you didn't go to the Burrow this Christmas – the easiest place for me to get to you – because you saw my plan. The blood I took from you connected us further. I sent some of it back to you with Ginny – to warn you that I knew about our bond and that I wasn't going to tolerate you getting in the way of me destroying the world of Bad Blood."

Harry glanced at Lupin who was being held by another Death Eater. His professor had been right.

"After tonight, after I've killed you, I shall destroy Dumbledore and all of his followers. I'll enter their homes and kill them all until all those loyal to him are gone. Then, nothing can stop me and my followers from ridding the world of _Mudbloods_ and _Muggles_ who threaten to dirty up the name of Wizard.

"My wand won't kill you," Voldemort continued. "They are connected as well. This veil is the answer."

Harry's mind was wheeling. He was trying to figure out exactly how to get out of the Death Eater's grip and kill Voldemort without his wand.

Just, then, Hermione and Snape barged into the room. They put up a good fight against the Death Eaters, but the Death Eaters just outnumbered them. Hermione looked hard at Harry, as if trying to tell him something. He nodded at her, understanding. He somehow knew just then that members of the Order were waiting outside of the room, waiting to enter the room. They had to wait for more Order members, though, otherwise they would be outnumbered, again. They needed to be able to put up a fair fight.

"You get a choice, Harry," Voldemort said. "You get to choose which _Weasley_ gets to die first."

Hermione gasped loudly. Her eyes filled and she stared at Ron who was looking at her with intensity in his gaze.

"First?" Harry repeated.

Voldemort laughed. "Don't you understand, Harry? I'm making you _weak_. Your parents, Cedric, Sirius, the Grangers, Hagrid… It's all been eating away at your mind. Making you _weak_. Making you susceptible to _me_. You don't think you've been getting all those dreams and visions from nowhere, do you?" Voldemort laughed again. "Which Weasley first? Which one gets to walk through the veil first?"

Harry's eyes flew back and forth between Ron and Ginny. He couldn't form a complete thought in his head. What was he to do? How could he get out of this? What was taking the Order so long to come and help him?

"Let him go," Voldemort said to the Death Eater who had a hold on Harry.

Harry immediately felt his arms being released and stepped away.

"Come here, Harry, make your choice."

Harry walked slowly towards Voldemort. His mind reeling with thoughts. He was able to grow his hair back after Petunia gave him a horrible haircut. He made the glass vanish at the zoo on Dudley's birthday. He blew up Aunt Marge and broke the glass in her hand. With Lupin's guidance he learned to summon and vanish things. All of this without his wand.

Harry stood up straight, pushed his shoulders back, and with all of his energy and strength and conviction he felt his body begin to tingle.

"Neither of them," Harry said. "Take me instead."

Behind him, Harry heard Hermione begin to cry and struggle against the Death Eater that had her.

Voldemort just laughed.

"Let them go," Harry said.

Voldemort continued to laugh.

"I _said_ – Let. Them. _Go_." Harry reached out with his mind and felt the energy surge up inside of him. He shook with it, his body growing hot, and his eyes becoming blurry. The few thoughts that were able to penetrate his mind were of Ginny. He loved her too much to let Voldemort take her. He had to do something to keep her alive. She was everything to him when he felt that he had nothing else. Harry let the fire out, a rush of energy, towards Voldemort. Voldemort lost his hold on the two Weasleys and whatever spell he had on them broke and they went running away from him. Harry, seizing his chance, jumped and flew towards Voldemort.

Whatever he had done without his wand had made Voldemort weak.

"I said, take me!" Harry yelled.

Ginny and Ron were a few feet away and spun around to watch Harry and the Dark Lord.

Harry's jump pushed Voldemort back and he took a hold of the Dark Wizard's robes and hurled him towards the veil. They both hit it at the same time and flew back into it. The room was suddenly quiet. Voldemort and Harry's yells had ceased when they went through the veil to whatever was on the other side.

Ginny felt her knees give and she sunk to the floor. The tears flew out of her eyes and she screamed out Harry's name before falling completely on the floor in choked sobs.

The door to the room opened and the Order came rushing in.

The Death Eater's grip on Hermione loosened and she ran to Ginny and Ron, her own tears falling from her eyes. They held on to each other, unable to fight back without their wands, and hexes and spells and shields soared across the room over their heads.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

"_Accio wand_!"

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

"_Protego_!"

"_Crucio_!"

"_Tarantallegra_!"

"_Stupefy_!"

"_Protego_!"

"_Protego_!"

"_Protego_!"

The room filled with the sounds of Wizard war. Soaring hexes. Spells bouncing off shields. People dropping to the floor. Falling wooden wands tapping against the tile. Shuffling feet. Voices… so many voices.

Lupin was hit in the chest with a stunning spell and fell backwards against the floor. The Death Eaters seemed to have forgotten he was there. He was ignored, passed out, but not dead.

Emmeline Vance was thrown against the wall and knocked her head against the door. A thin line of blood seeped down from the back of her head to the floor underneath her.

Kingsley was unable to deflect the Killing Curse and laid on the ground, surrounded by green mist.

Hestia Jones convulsed on the floor next to a fallen Death Eater as she was hit by _Crucio_ while sending a total body binding spell towards another Death Eater. The spell was not yet lifted and she laid there, her body twitching and her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Other Order members were on the floor, gasping for breath, passed out, or dead. The only remaining standing members were Snape, Tonks, and, thankfully, Arthur Weasley.

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny held on to each other for what seemed like days before the room became quiet and dead and wounded bodies lay strewn out around on the cold, hard floor.

Harry was gone. He had done that _thing_ with his mind – they all felt the intensity of it. They all felt themselves falter. But, it was aimed at Voldemort who seemed to get the full blast of it. Everything else they felt was simply ricocheted from it. Harry pushed himself at Voldemort and allowed himself to be thrown through the veil.

He sacrificed himself in order to save his loved ones. Whether or not Voldemort was immune to the veil before didn't matter. Harry had performed a love sacrifice and Voldemort was gone.

But, so was Harry.

Hermione looked up, her eyes swollen with tears, her head aching from the sobbing. She caught Ron's eyes which were also red and his cheeks shiny. They looked around the room. All the Death Eaters were down on the ground – not all dead, but wounded, and put in magic binds. Order members were on the floor, bleeding, broken, and hurting.

Hermione didn't think she could cry any harder until her eyes landed on a crumpled heap a few feet away from her. White hair surrounding his bright blue robes, chest still, having already taken in his last breath.

"_Dumbledore_."

It barely came out as a whisper. She fell against Ron, her tears pouring out of her eyes silently. Ron couldn't bring himself to look at their beloved Headmaster. He shut his eyes tight as he tried to push all thought of dead Harry, dead Dumbledore, and dead Order members out of his head. He barely had time to register that his father was still standing, although barely worse for wear. He could only hold on to Hermione in one arm and Ginny, still collapsed on the floor, in the other.

Those still standing or wake from the Order looked at the three on the floor in thick, heavy silence.

The silence was sliced by Ginny's broken sobs as everyone turned to look at the veil as it slowly swayed against the air.

* * *

To Be Continued…

**(No, that wasn't the end!)**


	17. Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Hermione barely remembered being taken back to the Burrow that night. Her head felt swarmed with confusion and the only thing she was sure of what that Ron never stopped holding her hand. She had so many questions that she needed answered. But, she didn't know how to ask them.

At the Burrow Hermione sat with Ron on the couch in the lounge. The entire family came home. Bill and Charlie and Percy and the twins. Ginny collapsed on the car ride home and Mr. Weasley carried her up the stairs to her room. He came back down a few moments later looking solemn and sitting down on a raggedy chair near the fireplace. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen making hot chocolate.

"All my stuff is at Hogwarts," Hermione whispered, looking down and noticing she was still wearing her pajamas.

"We'll have someone from the Order go and pick up your trunk so you can have some clothes here," Arthur said. "I'd offer you something of Ginny's but you're a bit too tall for them."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah…"

"I wish we knew what was going on," Fred said. "I would've liked to have been there."

Mrs. Weasley came in with a tray of mugs. "Bite your tongue, George!"

"I'm Fred."

"Fred! I don't want to hear talk like that. You're lucky you weren't there."

"But, maybe if we had had more people on our side—" Fred began.

"—then we could have saved Dumbledore—" George cut in.

"—or Harry—"

"—or… both?"

The twins looked at one another and something passed between them – one of their unspoken agreements. They had always been like that. They were able to say things to one another without ever opening their mouths.

Mrs. Weasley handed out all the mugs. "Angelina would have killed you if you had been there!"

"Whatever, Mum," Fred grumbled, putting the mug to his mouth.

"Angelina's going to have to keep you on a very tight leash," Mrs. Weasley said.

"She won't have her leash on me for a while, thanks, Mum."

"Why not?"

"I'm twenty." Fred shrugged. "Seems a little young."

Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes.

Ron leaned over to Hermione. His eyes stung from trying not to cry in front of his brothers and his girlfriend. He whispered in her ear, "what do you suppose their children will look like?"

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes a little confused.

"I mean… will they look like both of them? Coffee-coloured skin and red hair?"

The image formed in Hermione's head and she almost laughed. "No, I suppose… Well… I don't rightly know what they'll look like. Is your red headed gene strong enough to kick Angelina's dark haired gene out of the way?"

"Of course!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione gave him a quiet smile before sniffling. She didn't want to cry anymore but the thought that Harry would never have children crept into her mind and she bit her lip to keep the tears from falling.

Hermione looked around the room and realized this was her family. Ron's arm would always be around her shoulder. The twins would always be scheming. Bill would always be watchful. Charlie would always be distant. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would always be bickering. And Ginny would always be… Hermione stopped at the thought. What would Ginny always be? Not with Harry. Not anymore. Hermione didn't know how to complete her thought.

But, everything else felt right, though. She felt all right with the Weasleys at the Burrow. She thought she'd be uncomfortable, a guest, but Mrs. Weasley treated her as one of her own. Perhaps that's what happened when you were friends with Ron and always at his house for holidays. Or perhaps Mrs. Weasley always had an intuitive feeling that Hermione would _be_ family one day.

A small tear escaped from Hermione's eye. Mrs. Weasley saw it and told everyone it was time for bed.

"It's been an emotional day; we all need our sleep."

Ron didn't miss the tear his mother wiped away from her eye. Bill and Charlie went up the stairs to their old room. The twins went to theirs and Percy went up to his. Ron lingered on the couch with Hermione still sitting next to him.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed to be in some sort of silent conversation with one another. Finally, Arthur cleared his throat and smiled a forced smile.

"Why don't you two go on to bed as well?" he asked.

Ron stood up and looked at Hermione. She slowly brought herself to her feet and followed him to the stairs. She looked as if without help she might fall over. He let her go ahead of him on the stairs in case she really did fall down he could catch her. He was about to step up when his father caught his arm.

"Ginny's locked herself in her room," said Arthur. "I heard the squelching noise… One of you can use…" Arthur gulped. "Harry's old bed in yours."

Ron felt his face heat up. He glanced at his mother. Her face was turned away from him and her shoulders were quivering. He looked back at his father.

"Okay."

"Keep the door open, yeah?"

Ron almost smirked. "Yeah, sure. All right, then. 'Night."

He walked up the stairs. Hermione had stopped at the top. When she heard him approach behind her she turned around and looked at him, her eyes wide and glassy. He took her hand in his and led her to his room. They walked in and looked at it. It was the same orange room it had always been but they couldn't keep their eyes off of the second bed in the room. It had been Harry's bed ever since he stayed at the Burrow for the first time in second year. All the holidays after that it was where Harry slept. Sixth year summer and Christmas especially. Ron could feel his body react to the bed. He didn't want to cry.

"Bloody hell," he murmured. He took out his wand and vanished the bed. Hermione let out a breath she wasn't aware she had been holding. Ron looked at his bed and scrunched his face in thought. His bed was much too small for the both of them and he desperately didn't want to sleep alone.

"We can sleep on the floor," Hermione said, answering his question, her voice cracking slightly.

Ron nodded. "Sure."

"And we'll keep the door open… I heard your father."

Ron nodded again. "Sure."

Hermione sat on the floor, playing with the sleeve of her pajama top while Ron disappeared out of his room and reappeared with extra pillows and blankets. He spread out a couple of the blankets on the floor for cushion and sat down on top of them, laying his head on one of the pillows. Hermione took the other pillow and laid it beside Ron. He covered her up with one of the blankets and took the other one for himself.

They were both on their sides again, facing one another. Ron reached out and smoothed Hermione's hair away from her face. He closed his eyes. Looking at her reminded him too much of Harry. He didn't want to think about Harry. He kept seeing memories dance in front of him when he saw her… The three of them together fighting the troll in first year. He and Harry visiting her every day in the hospital wing when Hermione turned herself into a cat. Harry and Hermione barging into the Shrieking Shack to rescue him. Hermione trying desperately to get him and Harry back on speaking terms in fourth year – or Harry trying desperately to get him and Hermione back on speaking terms when he flipped out at her going to the ball with Krum. The three of them fighting Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic in search for Sirius fifth year. Harry and him trying desperately to teach Hermione how to do a really good Feint on her broom during Christmas holiday sixth year.

Ron really couldn't bear to think anymore.

"Ron…"

He opened his eyes at the sound of Hermione's voice. She had begun to cry again with slow, singled tears.

"You can cry in front me," Hermione told him. "I won't tell anyone."

Ron shook his head.

"It won't make you any less of a man. The twins wouldn't even dare to make fun of you for it. I saw them shed a few tears earlier myself."

Ron was still shaking his head.

"Why?" Hermione asked, her eyes full of confusion.

"Because," Ron said. It barely came out as a whisper. "Because if I cry that seems to make it more permanent." His voice came out even lower. "It makes him more… gone."

"The dead aren't really gone as long as we remember them."

"I remember first meeting Harry. It was on the train. I didn't really think he'd want to be friends with me but it was really cool that this famous boy told Malfoy on the train that he didn't want to be friends with him and he didn't stop sitting in my compartment even though he found out I was poor and all that."

Hermione smiled. "Well, when I first met him, I first met you." She blushed.

"You were looking for Trevor."

"Yes. And you tried that horrible little spell on your rat."

"And then you told me I had dirt on my nose."

Hermione laughed. "And you hated me."

Ron nodded. "I did. God help me, I did. After that we couldn't stop bickering. It really _is_ just like my parents. They come together in a crisis as they did tonight but otherwise, Merlin, they are always at each other. You sound like my mother when you get mad." Ron sniggered. "_Ronald Bilius Weasley_," Ron mimicked.

Hermione didn't know if he sounded more like her or his mother. She smiled.

"Well, I thought you were infuriating."

"But you fancied me anyway." Ron flashed her a smile.

Hermione shrugged. "I couldn't help myself. You were so _obvious_ and yet you wouldn't admit it to anyone. I don't even know if you admitted it to yourself."

"You don't think I knew I fancied you?"

Hermione shook her head. "You never went after any other girl and you truly seemed baffled when I told you to ask me to a ball the next time it came up before someone else. As if that wasn't the whole issue the entire time."

Ron swallowed. "I didn't think about any girls at all. Well, I mean, as far as wanting to ask them out. Harry was focused on Cho fourth and fifth year and I didn't focus on anyone. I couldn't understand why you'd want to go to the ball with Vicky anyway."

"That's a silly question. I wanted to go because he asked me. No one else was going to – certainly not you."

Ron blushed. "You looked so beautiful that night…" Ron said, remembering. "Harry had no idea how to dance. Parvati had to take the lead. He didn't like the ball much. Although, now, looking back, I suspect it was because Cho was with Cedric."

"That's why you didn't like it much, either. I was with Viktor."

"Hmm. Perhaps."

Hermione sniffled. "Well, I liked the ball. And, to tell you the truth, I had always been lying to you and Harry about one thing."

"What's that?"

"I never really hated Quidditch as much as I let on. I enjoyed going to the matches and cheering on Harry. I was glad you were on the team when Harry was banned. I still had an excuse to go and watch."

"Bloody amazing sport, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I quite like it now."

Ron sat up on his elbow. "Hey! I never did ask you why you kissed me before the first match in fifth year."

Hermione looked puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"You were wishing Harry and I luck before the Slytherin match. You kissed my cheek. It distracted me all the way down to the pitch."

"Oh, I don't know. I suppose I was just wishing you luck. I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

Hermione blushed brightly and rubbed one of her eyes. "I didn't _mean_ to do it. It just accidentally happened and I was right embarrassed after. I walked away so you to wouldn't see me blush. And in case you didn't notice, it happened a lot after that."

"When we parted at Platform nine and three-quarters end of fifth year… when you first saw me when you came to the Burrow at the end of summer holiday before sixth year… sometimes before the Quidditch matches when you were wishing me luck… always after the matches when we won… on Christmas after you opened your gift from me… on New Year's Eve at midnight—"

"Ron, do you remember _every_ time I kissed your cheek?"

Ron nodded. "Actually, yes."

"_How_?" Hermione asked, flabbergasted.

"Well, this past summer when Harry came and I told him I snogged you, well, we got into this conversation about how he knew I fancied you and you fancied me. He pointed out how many times you'd kissed me versus him. I was able to remember all of them. Harry could only count three for himself."

Hermione blushed. "I can't believe you remember, though."

"I guess they were more important to me than I realized at the time."

"Well, my kisses weren't as significant to Harry I'm sure, especially after he snogged Cho fifth year."

"Oh, he _more_ than snogged Cho."

"I know."

Ron looked at her skeptically. "How?"

"Harry told me."

"He _told_ you?"

Hermione nodded. "Sure. The next day we talked about it for a while. He needed my advice. He talked about girls to me a lot. More than a lot, really. I knew he fancied Ginny before school started this term. I really just pretended not to know. He's fancied a lot of girls over the years, you know."

"Really? Like who?"

"Well…" Hermione started, thinking back. "There was Cho, of course, and Ginny. Then, in sixth year he fancied Hannah Abbott something fierce. I'm fairly sure she fancied him, too, but he never got around to asking her to Hogsmeade or anything so she began to look elsewhere. He liked Hannah for most of sixth year. For a couple weeks he fancied Lisa Turpin – she's a Ravenclaw in our year. Then, he went back and forth between thinking Ginny was 'cute' to thinking Susan Bones was a 'real bird.'"

"I cannot believe you know all this and I don't."

"What did you and Harry talk about?"

"I dunno, boy stuff."

"What's boy stuff?"

Ron shrugged. "Girls… or so I thought."

"Harry talked to me about _emotions_ because I'm a girl. You're a boy. Would you know how to interpret girls' actions or give him good advice when he was feeling low that Susan snubbed him after Herbology one day?"

Ron shook his head.

"So, there you go. I never talked to him about Quidditch and I certainly didn't list fifty different ways to kill Professor Snape."

"It wasn't fifty ways to kill Snape. It was forty-seven and a half ways to make Snape's life miserable."

Hermione looked rather amused. "I see." She wet her lips. "My favorite memory of the three of us, though, is last Christmas when we were all here."

Ron smiled. "You and your parents came on Christmas Day and stayed for dinner."

"I stayed for the rest of the holiday and went back to Hogwarts with you. The three of us went outside near the lake to exchange gifts by ourselves. We all talked and laughed and goofed around until nearly sunrise. I remember feeling safe and peaceful and happy. I remember Harry looking happy, too, which was unusual because Harry was never very happy. He had too much to deal with – especially after Sirius. I didn't think he would ever come out of his walking coma. He never smiled or looked at any of us. He didn't speak for a month once it all settled in and he knew that Sirius really _was_ dead."

"Will that happen to us?" Ron asked.

"What?"

"How will we react once Harry's death settles in?"

Hermione didn't answer. "I don't know. But, we're talking about it. We're remembering him. He was our best friend and I reckon I'll cry about it some more. I reckon so will you."

Hermione's eyes had already begun to fill with tears again. Ron laid back down on the pillow and turned on his back. He couldn't lie to Hermione. He wanted to cry. He needed to cry. He pulled her to him and held her against his chest and let the tears fall from his eyes into her hair.

* * *

The next morning Ron and Hermione walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Ron had searched through drawers to see if he had anything she could wear. He was able to find one of the maroon jumpers he "accidentally" forgot to pack at the beginning of term and a pair of jeans with so many holes he didn't want anyone at Hogwarts to see them. He found a jumper and a pair of jeans from when he was a fourth year. Even though they were from Ron's fourth year they were still too big on Hermione, but they were better than her pajamas which were dirty from running through Hogwarts grounds and on the train tracks and stained with shed tears.

The whole family, save Ginny, was at the table already eating eggs and bacon and toast. Ron and Hermione sat down at the end across from the twins in front of two empty plates.

"We've been talking about Dumbledore," Fred said.

"Remembering him," George added.

"Mum and Dad told us loads of stories from when they were in Gryffindor," Charlie said.

"I remember when Dumbledore pretended not to see us with a sack full of dungbombs in the corridors once," Fred said, ignoring the obvious "hmph" of disapproval from his mother.

"I remember when he told Fred he'd give him permission to check out a book on potions in the Restricted Section so he wouldn't have to steal the contraceptive potion from Madam Pomfrey's cabinet anymore in case he just happened to want to brew it himself."

Mrs. Weasley loudly dropped her spoon, not having heard this story before. Ron and Hermione exchanged amused glances.

Fred's face turned the famous Weasley Red as the heat rushed up past his neck. "Well, _I _remember when Dumbledore found you looking around for your underwear in classroom fourteen when Alicia stole them as a joke after you shagged her."

Ron tried to hold back his laughter.

"Well, _I _remember when he was nice enough not to take away house points when Filch took you to his office after having found you and Angelina in the Room of Requirement and you on your _knees_."

"That's enough!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "You two always find the most inappropriate time to share such ghastly stories! Ron and Hermione don't need to hear these things. We've all got enough to deal with without me having to worry about Filch finding _them_ in the Room of Requirement."

"Actually, Mum," Fred said, "we heard a story once about _you_ and Dad in the Room—"

"I said enough!"

Ron picked up his piece of toast and Hermione passed him the jam. He poured her more pumpkin juice.

After breakfast Ron and Hermione went quietly into the lounge to play a game of chess. They weren't sure what else they could do. Gnomes didn't live in the garden during the winter months and Mrs. Weasley had cleaned the entire house the night before when she couldn't fall asleep. The twins came in to watch them, as even they didn't feel like doing much else. They knew when it wasn't a time to play jokes or gags and this was definitely not the time.

In the middle of the game Mrs. Weasley came in with a small stack of parchment in her hand. After breakfast was cleared away she began to think of a list of things everyone could do to take their mind off of things. She wanted to start her children off by having them write Happy Christmas notes to their friends and owling them off with Pig and Hermes. Then, she planned on having them conjure up some Christmas decorations and making pretty the house. She'd send Bill and Charlie out to sever a tree down and have the whole family decorate it. They usually didn't decorate the tree until Christmas Eve, but Mrs. Weasley knew the distraction a few days early would help everyone's mind. The last thought lingering in her head was what she should do with the presents they had for Harry.

"Take some parchment and write Christmas letters to your friends."

The twins groaned.

"You haven't made us write Christmas letters since we were at Hogwarts," George whined.

"This isn't fair," Fred added in.

Hermione took the parchment gladly. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. I have a few people I'd like to wish Happy Christmas."

Mrs. Weasley smiled thankfully at her and left the room just as Ron frowned.

"Yeah? Like _Vicky_?" he said under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing."

"Why can't I write to one of my _friends_? Don't you trust me to wish Viktor a Happy Christmas?"

"But, you know Vicky doesn't want to just be your pen-pal."

"I do wish you'd stop calling him Vicky," Hermione said. She stood up and went to the desk and retrieved four quills. She handed three of them to Ron and the twins. She sat back down and handed out the parchment as well.

"I don't see why you don't trust me," Hermione snapped.

Ron took the quill and began to write on one of the parchments. "I trust _you_," he said.

The room was quiet after that. Ron finished his first letter and moved on to the second one.

"You don't spell Seamus with an 'h' anywhere," Hermione told Ron, not looking up from her own letter.

"I _know_ that," Ron snarled, but the twins couldn't help but noticed he scratched something out at the top of the parchment.

Fred was bewildered. "How did you know that?" he asked Hermione.

She looked up. "Know what?"

"That Ron would misspell Seamus' name?"

"Or that he was even writing to Seamus?" George added.

Hermione looked at Ron and shrugged. "I don't know."

"You guys did it at breakfast as well," said Fred.

"Did what?"

"Passed the jam," said George.

"Or the bacon," said Fred.

"Or filled each other's glasses," said George.

"Or hand each other a napkin," said Fred.

"Without ever saying anything to one another," said George.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, speechless.

"We noticed it over the summer."

"You'd get each other more food or a quill or a blanket."

"It's really weird."

"Almost freaky."

Hermione looked back down at her parchment lost in thought.

"Can you do it now?" Fred asked eagerly.

"Do what now?" Ron asked, looking a bit irritated.

"Read each other's minds!" George spat out.

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione snapped. "We don't read each other's minds. I have no idea what Ron is thinking. Sometimes I know Ron wants more bacon because he _always_ has as much bacon as humanly possible at breakfast. I eat with him _every single day_."

Fred shook his head. "Nope, that's not true. You knew he was writing to Seamus. Hey, Ron, who is Hermione writing to?"

Ron looked at his brother feeling rather annoyed. He turned his eyes to Hermione and studied her face as she continued to look at her parchment, her quill moving once again across the page.

He wet his lips. "Lupin."

Hermione snapped the quill in half. "Lucky guess," she snapped. She stood up and walked to the kitchen. She sat down at the table. They didn't read each other's minds. She _knew_ they didn't – the entire thought was ridiculous. But, they knew things about each other. She knew Ron would first write to Neville and then he'd write Seamus. After that he'd write Dean and then he might write Luna, seeing as how she always sought him out to say hello, if he hadn't lost his attention span by then. Ron _never_ spelled Seamus' name correctly – why would he start now? She corrected him without seeing his parchment because she knew him so perfectly.

Ron was the same way with her. He knew she would never write a letter to Viktor in front of him and the next person she was closest to besides him, Harry, or Ginny, was their Dark Arts professor. Hermione knew this didn't mean he read her mind, but the twins were so infuriating in the past that her tolerance of them was extremely low that day.

Hermione let out a small scream of surprise as Tonks came flying out of the kitchen fireplace covered in Floo powder.

"Sorry, love!" Tonks said, brushing the dust away from her clothes. She held out her hand. "McGonagall transfigured them so I could put them in my pocket. I heard you might need some clothes?" Tonks surveyed Hermione wearing a jumper and a pair of jeans far too big for her.

Hermione looked at Tonks' outstretched hand and took four tiny trunks from it. She looked at them and almost laughed. They looked like they belonged in a dollhouse.

"I'll let you transfigure them back, yeah?"

Hermione nodded. "Sure." She stopped for a moment. "Tonks… Whose trunk is the fourth?" Hermione knew the answer ever before she asked the question.

"Oh… well… that's Harry's, that is. McGonagall thought you all might like it?" Tonks sniffed in deeply. "I'll be off. I have to now Floo to St. Mungo's. I told Remus I wouldn't leave him there for too long by himself. Some of the nurses are afraid of him, I think. Imagine! Being afraid of a harmless werewolf! Well, bye, love!"

Tonks Flooed out of the Weasley kitchen. Hermione sat the trunks down on the floor and transfigured them back to their normal size. She averted his eyes away from Harry's. She levitated her and Ron's trunks up to Ron's room. She did the same to Ginny's only placed it outside of her door and knocked softly, telling her where she had left it. She heard a muffled thanks.

* * *

Later that afternoon, post lunch, Hermione and Ron put up garland and mistletoe up around the Weasley's living room while Bill and Charlie and the twins decorated the newly severed Christmas tree.

While the rest of the family sat in the lounge talking, Ron quietly slipped out of the front door and motioned for Hermione to follow him. They sat on the front steps, sides touching, hands laced through the other.

"I hope the twins didn't piss you off too much," Ron said.

"No, I just wasn't in the mood for them. They get too excited sometimes."

"I reckon I do almost read your mind. I feel like I knew you so well."

Hermione nodded.

"And I think at school we do the same things – pass each other things. I seem to remember you giving me your Potions book once in the library when I was looking around for mine even though I never said anything. I just never really notice those things because it seems so…"

"Normal?" Hermione offered.

Ron nodded. "Normal is a good word. I didn't realize how _much_ we just _know_ about each other until I knew you were writing to Lupin."

"I'd never write to Viktor in front of you."

"I know."

They were silent after that, letting the wind blow through their hair and trying hard not to think about things that would make them sad. After a few minutes, Ron broke the silence.

"I do love you," he said, "very much. I reckon that's why I know you so well and what you need or doing or who you're writing to."

"I know. I love you, too."

"I guess I don't say it much. I reckon girls like to hear that kind of thing. But, Hermione, I do. Honest. I'm very much _in_ love with you and I kind of feel I always will be. I just needed to tell you that in case you weren't sure. I didn't ever really tell Harry how much it meant to me that he was my best mate and I want to make sure _you_ know what you mean to me."

Hermione's heart melted. "I know, Ron," she whispered. She leaned over to kiss him.

They shared a soft, chaste kiss without tongues or hands. Somehow it wouldn't have felt right any other way. They broke apart as the front door flung open.

"Is Ginny out here?" Bill asked.

Ron and Hermione both shook their heads.

"I haven't seen her. We've been out here for about twenty minutes," said Ron. "Why? What's wrong?"

"I went up to see if she wanted to eat supper with us. Her door was open but she wasn't in there and she wasn't in the loo."

"Oh…" Ron looked at Hermione and she could see the concern building up inside of him.

"And Harry's trunk was open in the kitchen. Do you have any idea where she could have gone?" Bill looked nervous and jittery and his hands kept fiddling with the ends of his ponytail.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know where she would have gone. But I bet I know what she took."

* * *

**To Be Continued…**


	18. Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

An invisible Ginny stood in front of the veil. She watched it sway back and forth against the still air. The Department of Mysteries never did explain what the veil was, even after Sirius' death. Ginny didn't want to walk through it – did she? She shook her head. No, she didn't. But, she wanted Harry to walk out. Ginny rubbed her forehead. Whenever she closed her eyes she saw flashes of Harry. From when she first saw him when he was eleven and she ten to now – him, seventeen but a man, strong, dark. Flashes, like a slideshow, in front of her eyes.

Ginny hugged her arms around herself, wondering if she would ever feel Harry's arms around her again. Her breath caught in the middle of her throat. This want she had inside of her was killing her. This want to see Harry once last time. She began to cry again, wanting desperately to hear Harry tell her that he loved her once more. She felt robbed. He had given her his love – honest love – and then in an instant it had been ripped away from her.

Sinking to her knees, Ginny placed a hand through the veil – reaching. She held her hand through the veil, feeling the cold, icy air on the other side. She didn't put her hand any farther into it but she held out her hand, palm up, wanting with every last molecule and fiber in her body to find some sort of answer on the other side.

* * *

"You think she took the Invisibility Cloak?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded. "Of course. If she doesn't want to be found, then what other way is better than to be invisible?"

Bill frowned. "Well, supper's ready at any rate." He made as if to turn around and leave but he hesitated and looked back at his little brother. "Just so you know… there's a meeting tonight at midnight at Grimmauld Place. Seeing as you two are the only ones here not in the Order you can't come… but… I'd be careful not to mention that fact to Mum. She might decide to stick around instead or bring you along to Grimmauld Place."

Ron looked at his brother with raised eyebrows. "What does it matter if we're… oh." Ron blushed.

"I mean, unless you two _don't_ want to be left alone at the Burrow. Just a thought. I'll see you on Christmas."

"Wait! You're not staying for dinner?" Ron asked his eldest brother.

"Oh, no, I'm going to see Fleur before the meeting tonight. It's too crowded around here anyway and I forgot how loud Charlie snores."

Ron sniggered. Bill had a point.

They all sat in their usual seats at the kitchen table. No one really talked except for the twins and they mostly spoke to one another.

"I told Fred he would have to work there extra hours since most of _my_ money went into leasing a new premise," George said, a slightly bitter tone in his voice.

"Sod off," said Fred.

"It's true. I'm not working extra hours – no way. I didn't waste my money on some bloody ring."

Fred chewed hard on his chicken. "It's not just some bloody ring."

"You're not even planning on getting married any time soon so why did you even buy that goddamned thing?"

"George!" Mrs. Weasley cried out, her voice laced with warning.

The twins ignored her.

"Maybe when you've _grown up_ yourself you'll realize there's more important things than seeing how many chicks you can shag," Fred snapped. "And a guy buys the ring because the girl wants him to and he's _suppose_ to because he _needs_ her. You're just too bloody self-centered to realize this."

"I'm not too bloody self-centered!"

"Right. And why is it that Alicia broke up with you again? Oh, right, because every Hogsmeade weekend you Apparate to meet that little blonde seventh year!"

"This isn't about _me_. This is about _you_ wasting money and me having to pick up the pieces because _I_ want to expand our business."

Fred shook his head. "No, this is about you being immature that I have a life away from you and the shop. Not everything revolves around you and making fake wands."

Charlie cleared his throat. "Why don't you two wait and argue about this at your flat? My nosh tastes better without a side of bickering."

"Sod off, Charlie," George snapped. He stood up abruptly. "I'm going back to the flat. Stay with Angelina tonight." With a loud Crack! he Apparated.

Fred stabbed his vegetables with his fork and forcefully threw them into his mouth.

"I didn't realize you two were having such a row," said Charlie.

"George just won't shut up about the goddamn ring – I _know_, Mum! You don't have to shout my name so indignantly this time. You'd think he'd at least be amused by the whole thing – especially since Angelina never interferes with our… inventing…" His voice trailed off. "I'm going to Angelina's. I'll see you lot at the meeting tonight." With that, Fred Apparated from the Burrow as well.

Hermione glanced at Ron next to her. He looked slightly embarrassed that his brothers just how a row in front of her. He should know by now that she was used to it. Things were never quiet around the Burrow. It was one of the most endearing and yet frustrating things about it. Hermione reached over and placed a hand on Ron's thigh. He seemed to calm down a bit and continued eating.

"Those two!" Mrs. Weasley cried out. "Think of nothing other than themselves! Can barely remember that Harry and Dumbledore are _dead_ not to mention other Order members but _all_ they're concerned about is that ridiculous shop of theirs! Why they ever dropped out of Hogwarts I'll—"

"Molly," Mr. Weasley interrupted.

"What!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

Ron and Hermione both stopped eating at the sound of Mrs. Weasley stating Harry and Dumbledore were both dead. Their moods had been slightly elevated from all the Christmas decorating, but then crashed at the mention that their best friend was dead. Hermione suddenly wasn't hungry any longer. Ron removed her hand from his leg and held it. He gave it a slight squeeze.

"Mum," Ron said, "Hermione and I have a big Potions essay to write and Head Girl and Boy duties to map out for next term. This is as good a time as any to get started on them. We'll be upstairs – we'll keep the door open, Dad."

Ron pushed his chair back and stood up. Not letting go of Hermione's hand he led her up the stairs and back into his orange bedroom. He flopped down on his bed, careful not to step on the makeshift blanket bed they'd slept on the night before on the floor. He sighed and leaned over the side of his bed to his trunk. He opened it up and pulled out parchment and a quill. He took out his Potions book and Hermione gaped at him.

"You're _really_ going to do your Potions homework?"

Ron looked at the book and shrugged. "Why not? You're here to look it over for me and write a conclusion."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Ron nodded. "Besides, there's nothing else to do up here." He looked down at the parchment in his hands. "Nothing that would really feel right… right now."

Hermione understood. "Although, Bill did send you enough hints tonight before supper."

Ron blushed. "He's a stupid git. He's knows I'm not… nevermind."

"No, what?"

Ron blushed deeper. "Not going to have sex."

"Oh."

"Er, yet."

"Right." It was Hermione's turn to blush. She got up from the desk and laid down next to Ron's sitting body, using his lap and crossed legs as a pillow. She swallowed. "Well, we'll need to… _discuss_ it before we're ready. I mean, I'm not on… I haven't talked to Madam Pomfrey yet… I don't have a reason at the moment… Well, anyway."

"What _are_ you on about?" Ron asked her confused.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not on any sort of birth control, Ronald! I'd have to go and get the potion from Madam Pomfrey or have her give me permission to brew it myself. Some of the ingredients needed are not in the student supply cabinet in the Potions rooms."

"Oh." Ron's blush only grew even deeper.

"Unless you want more Weasleys running about."

Ron shook his head furiously. "No, no, no. No little Weasleys. Please, god no."

"You don't want kids?" Hermione asked, her heart racing.

"No, I suppose I do. But, I have no idea how to talk to the first years at school. I have nothing to say to them. They're children, aren't they? They're completely different than us."

"It'll be different when they're _your_ kids," Hermione said.

Ron shrugged. "Maybe." He opened up his Potions book. "Wolfsbane? Didn't we learn about that already."

"Yes, Ron, but the essay is on _Foxglove_."

"Oh… Really?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes, really. Don't you know what Foxglove is?"

Ron shook his head. "No and I don't even know where in the book it is."

"It's an herb. It has flowers. It's used…" Hermione sighed. "Oh, it's on page four hundred eleven, for goodness sakes!"

Ron smiled. "Thanks." He began to work on his essay while Hermione dozed off in his lap. He wrote twelve inches – Snape asked for eighteen – and figured Hermione would help him come up with the rest when she looked it over. The house was quiet and Ron wondered if his family had left for Grimmauld Place yet. Perhaps when they got home his parents could answer some of the questions he had. And, of course, Hermione had a whole bucket-full of questions herself. Ginny probably did as well… if Ginny ever uncovered herself from that Invisibility Cloak.

* * *

Ginny felt the cold air on the other side of the veil. Her hand felt like ice as it laced through her fingers. She began to feel a slight tugging at her hand that stretched up through her and settled around her elbow. Ginny resisted the tug. She resisted being pulled through the veil. She grounded her knees into the floor and kept her hand, reaching.

All of her thoughts were of Harry. He consumed her. He made her as crazy in life as he was in death. Ginny felt herself grow light headed from her reaching, her insane _want_ of Harry. She thought she might actually go mental if her want increased any more. She already was beginning to feel herself slip away from reality.

And that's when she felt fingers entwine through hers on the other side of the veil.

* * *

Ron took a pillow and put it underneath Hermione's head. He took off her shoes and covered her up and let her sleep. He crept down to the kitchen quietly, hoping not to wake her when he had to jump over the creaky steps. He took some of the leftover chicken out of the icebox and munched on it. The house felt too quiet with everyone gone. He sat down at the table, not thinking of anything in particular. His thoughts flew around from school to Hermione to his family to Harry and back to school again.

His thoughts finally settled on Hermione. That's where most of his thoughts lay. When Trelawny told them to write a daydream journal Ron realized just how much he thought about it. Almost constantly. Her… her hair, her smile, her bossiness, her skin, her touch, her… well, all her really cool parts. Ron felt himself blush even though he was alone in the room. Hermione did have really cool parts. Much cooler than his. They could do almost anything nowadays without embarrassment – although, Ron was still learning exactly how to do things. Hermione was much more complicated than he was, that was for sure. Sometimes she'd still have to whisper instructions to him, but that didn't bother him as long as he could feel that muscle contraction around his fingers or mouth and her body shudder. _That_ was the coolest part of all.

Ron finished the chicken. He wasn't sure why when the conversation turned to sex – actually sex, sex – he would blush. He felt a bit like a girl. He was suppose to be randy all the time and ready to jump into bed on the first day – he was a _guy_! He didn't really understand why he felt so apprehensive about it.

It had nothing to do with whether or not he would be good at it. That was something that had to be learned – he knew that much. Practice, practice, practice! He wasn't even worried about Hermione not liking it – he knew that she would. He couldn't place his finger on it. His excuse had been that he wanted to be with one person. That was the romantic part of him that he never showed to anyone else (hardly even Hermione) talking. But, somehow he knew that if Hermione wasn't the one he was suppose to be with forever, like his parents were meant to be together, then there was no one else for him. It was all that simple.

"Ron?"

Ron looked up. A tired eyed Hermione was walking down the stairs in her pink pajamas. She obviously changed before coming down the stairs. Ron loved those pajamas. They were so her – that girlish side to her that she didn't often let people see.

"Hi," said Ron. "You were sleeping. Did I wake you up?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think so. Come back up?"

Ron looked at her. He nodded. "Okay, sure."

Hermione turned to go back up the stairs. Ron followed her. He changed into pajamas and closed his bedroom door – more out of habit than of hoping something would happen that would deem the door closing necessary. Hermione took the pillow and blanket Ron had covered her up with and put it back on the floor. She sat down on the make-shift bed and looked up at him, her eyes wide and tired looking.

"Can I give you your Christmas present now?"

"There's still two days away from Christmas," Ron said.

Hermione shrugged. "I know. But, _last_ Christmas we all… Well, we exchanged gifts by ourselves. And I want to give you yours."

Ron nodded. "Okay, sure."

"Is that all right?"

"Yeah."

Hermione handed Ron a small box. He sat down on the floor and removed the lid. He laughed. Inside was a small book of the history of the Chudley Cannons and a picture of their Keeper, signed.

"This is great," Ron said.

"Well… I didn't know what to get you. But, I owled the Keeper and he sent me the signed picture for you. I thought you would like it since you're a Keeper as well."

Ron nodded. "No, I do like it. This is actually a book I might read." Ron stood up and tacked the photo on his wall between two other Cannons posters. He went to his trunk and rummaged through his things. He swallowed and looked at the box he'd tried to wrap with his wand. He'd done a poor job, but he handed the box to Hermione anyway. He laid down next to her, putting his head in her lap. He felt a little bit nervous giving her a present. He'd never given it too much thought before.

Hermione opened up the box and looked at the simple silver picture fame inside of it. She picked it up and smiled at it. She had never seen it before.

"Colin took in the common room one night when you fell asleep in my lap on the couch reading Arithmancy," Ron told her.

Hermione looked at the picture. There was a book on the floor and her head was resting peacefully in Ron's lap. He was playing with her hair and watching her sleep. Hermione's smile widened.

"Do I ever wake up?"

"Sometimes," Ron said. "If you watch the picture long enough."

"I'm going to put it on my desk in my room so I can see it always. It's a very sweet picture." Hermione moved down to lay next to Ron. She snuggled up in his arms. They were both dozing off to sleep when Pig rapped his wings against the window.

Ron cursed under his breath but got up to open the window. Pig flew in and landed on his bed. Ron took the rolled up parchment from Pig's leg and read it.

"Who's it from?" Hermione asked.

"Mum. She said she and Dad won't be home tonight. There's been an incident at the Ministry involving Ginny. She said to stay put at home." Ron looked up at Hermione. "You think Ginny took Harry's cloak and went to London?"

Hermione shrugged. "It looks that way."

"But, that's mental. _Why_?"

Hermione wet her lips. "Maybe… Well, maybe she wanted to go be with Harry."

Ron shook his head. "I cannot take one more person dying. Voldemort's gone. Tragedy is suppose to be _over_ now."

Hermione held out her hands to Ron. He walked over and took them and laid down next to her again. She took the parchment from him and read it.

_Ron and Hermione:_

_There's been an incident with Ginny at the Ministry. Your father and I will not be home until early morning._

_STAY AT HOME!_

_-Mum_

* * *

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Yeah, sorry, I had to upload this from the library as the cable went out in my neighborhood and I am on cable modem and no dial up…**

**To whoever made the comment about Hermione's age – Rowling never specified whether or not Hermione was older or younger than Harry and Ron. Just from reading the five books I get the feeling she isn't older than them, but younger than them, especially since in Book 3 Dumbledore refers to her and Harry as being "two thirteen year old wizards" and since the statement was made after September I can only deduce that she is younger than Harry and not almost a year older. It doesn't really matter. I like her younger so it's really not a mistake in my writing but an opinion that I put into my story.**


	19. Chapter Nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"They're seriously mental if they think I'm going to sit here at the Burrow while they're—"

"Ron! Calm down. How are you going to get to the Ministry? I can't Apparate with you and you are _not_ leaving me alone in this house, do you hear me?"

Ron gazed at the cross look on Hermione's face. He sighed. "Fine. But how did Ginny get there?"

"I don't know. Knight Bus? Does it matter? Come here and sit down."

Ron sighed frustrated. He grabbed a piece of parchment from his desk and scribble a short note to his mother:

_TELL ME WHATS GOING ON!_

-_Ron_

He gave the note to Pig and watched the little owl fly on its way. Ron shut the window and laid back down on the floor with Hermione. He sighed. He wanted to cry again but he wouldn't let himself do it in front of Hermione. He'd cried once – for Harry and Dumbledore – but he didn't want to do it again. Hermione put her arms around him, stroking his back.

"If it was something to really worry about, I'm _sure_ they'd be at St. Mungo's. Ginny's probably just in trouble. I'm more than certain she's fine."

Ron shrugged in Hermione's arms. "God, what if something bad has happened? I can't handle any more."

"You seemed to handle Harry fairly well."

Ron looked up into Hermione's eyes. She looked into them and smiled sadly. She nodded.

"I know…" she said. "You haven't really mourned yet. You haven't let go. Not really anyway. I was a mess for weeks over my parents." Hermione's voice began to falter. "But, this is _your_ time to be a mess, Ron. He was your best friend."

"He was your best friend as well."

"I know. But you two had a stronger bond than I had with him. You were strong for me. Why can't you let go and let me be strong for you?"

Ron settled back down next to Hermione. He sniffed in the smell of her. "My way of dealing with things is to not think about it. I won't cry anymore. I won't mourn. I don't know how."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione muttered sadly. She moved herself so she would be on top of him. She ran her fingers through his long read hair and massaged his lips with hers. She waited to see if he was going to respond. When he tangled his fingers through her hair with one hand and caressed the skin of her bare back with his other, she used her tongue to part his lips and enter his mouth. He began to unbutton her pajama top and pushed it off one shoulder. His hand immediately flew to her breast and he massaged it with his hand.

Hermione took off the top and moved her hands to the bottom of Ron's t-shirt. She tugged it upwards and he sat up, letting her remove it from his body. She kissed down his chest and stomach and pulled down his pajama bottoms. Ron kicked them off as she licked him and took him entirely in her mouth. He was already hard and forgetting all about Harry and his sister was an easy task as he looked at the top of Hermione's head, brown hair all curly and wild. He couldn't believe how _good_ she made him feel – physically and otherwise.

Ron felt his body tense up but he didn't want to come – not in her mouth. He felt guilty every time it happened and so lately he had been stopping her just before. It also made his physical ache for her more intense and his actual release later (usually by her hands) much more intense. He gently lifted her up by the shoulders and turned her over on her back.

He lowered his mouth to her neck and sucked on the skin at the crook of her neck and shoulder. It was his favorite place to kiss when he was warming her up. He reached down and pushed her pink pajama bottoms away. She bent up her knees and he was able to take them off at her ankles. He felt along her leg and the inside of her thigh until he felt the satiny fabric of her knickers. He groaned lightly against her neck. He returned his lips to her mouth as his hands tried to make their way inside the waistband of her knickers.

Hermione lifted his hand away and placed it on her breast. She moved her body until she was underneath him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing him against her. He grinded himself against her knickers; he could feel the heat radiating through her and it felt incredible. His mind was completely consumed by her and nothing else could even cross into it. His hands were everywhere and he felt his entire body turn to flame as his passion for her heated up.

"You can take them off," Hermione whispered into his ear.

Ron removed his mouth from her throat and looked down at her, propping himself up on his elbows.

Hermione blushed.

"You don't mean that," he whispered back.

Hermione nodded. "I do."

Ron shook his head. He removed himself from Hermione and laid down on his back. He covered his eyes with his arm and tried to catch his breath. Hermione reached over and let her hand slide up and down Ron's sex but he grabbed her wrist, making her stop. Hermione yelped in surprise.

"Did I hurt you?" Ron asked, immediately letting her go and sitting up.

Hermione shook her head. Confusion was written all in her eyes and it killed Ron to see her look the slightest bit hurt. He found his pajama bottoms and yanked them on as he stood up and walked out of his room, shutting his door behind him.

* * *

"What's going on, Fudge?" Arthur asked sternly, looking at the Minister with anger in his eyes. "We've been here nearly an hour and no one has told us a thing. We were sent an _official_ Ministry owl about our daughter and we want answers."

"Really, Cornelius," Molly said, "how would you like it if it was _your_ daughter. Tell us something!"

Fudge cleared his throat. They were all sitting in his office, Mrs. Weasley's foot tapping against the floor nervously, Mr. Wealsy ringing his hands together over and over.

"We're just having some people check, uh, her over."

"Check her over!" Molly cried. "Is she hurt? Where is she!"

Fudge didn't have time to answer as someone knocked on his office door.

"Come in."

A small, timid looking wizard walked in. His eyes were glazed with exhaustion. "There's… a group… waiting outside your office."

"The Order," Molly whispered.

Arthur nodded in agreement. He cleared his throat. "I suspect those were the friends we were having dinner with when we received your owl, Fudge. We'll just go outside and talk with them, if that's all right? Well, seeing as how you don't know anything about my daughter."

Arthur took Molly's hand and helped her up and they walked out of the door. In the waiting room, in chairs and standing along the wall, were several members of the Order – Bill, Charlie, the twins, McGonagall, Mad-Eye, Remus (recently released from St. Mungo's), and Snape. They all stopped talking when the Weasleys exited the Minister's office.

"We still don't know anything," Arthur said.

Snape grunted, a sign of his annoyance at the Ministry.

The door to the waiting area opened and everyone held their breath as another wizard walked through leading a small red haired witch.

Mrs. Weasley cried out, "Oh, Ginny!" and ran to her daughter. She stopped in mid-run, her arms outstretched when she saw the boy standing behind Ginny in the doorway to the waiting area.

* * *

Ron ran his hands through his hair as he sat on the stairs. He couldn't think straight. Part of him was still hurting from the break in physical contact from Hermione, but part of him told him it was all too much for him. His emotional range wasn't as large as Hermione's. He couldn't handle death, worry, love, and sex all at once. While he was able to forget about Harry and his sister his emotions were still hurting from the prior events.

Hermione came out of Ron's room clothed again. She sat down next to him on the stairs and took his hand and placed it in hers.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's my fault."

"I don't know what came over me. I just wanted you to forget everything."

"But, you're not ready for sex. We were talking about it not a few hours ago and how we would discuss it first."

Hermione sniffled. "I know. I just… wanted to make you forget. I thought I was helping you feel better."

"It's too much. I can't do it. Not yet. And neither can you. Not really… I _know_ you, remember? You don't want it yet either. It'll happen, I know it will."

"I know it, too."

Ron smiled slightly. "You know me as well. I have the… what was it you said? The emotional range of a teaspoon. This is all way too much for me to handle, Hermione. I want to make sure that when we have sex it's not about forgetting anything but remembering something. I guess I'm just a wanker like that."

"No, Ron, you're a romantic."

"Am not."

"Are so!"

"Romantics are poofters and girls. I'm not a romantic."

Hermione leaned her head against Ron's shoulder. "You are. It's all right. I think it's lovely. And I really am sorry. It was the wrong time."

Ron laughed to himself. "Although it was great to see you without your shirt on again."

Hermione blushed. "You're such a randy git."

Ron nodded wholeheartedly. "I am! I know it! Can you blame me? Your bits are amazing." Ron went out to feel her breast through her pajama top.

Hermione slapped his hand playfully away. She giggled. "We keep running into these brick walls it seems. We can never finish what we've started. We're always interrupted. If not by Death Eaters then by moral principles. It's going to get old one day."

"When we get back to school we can make up for all the lost time."

Hermione smiled. "That sounds _lovely_. More than lovely."

"I hope I didn't make you feel bad. I just needed out of that room. I know it's my old room but it hold so many bloody memories. It makes me feel boxed in."

"Claustrophobic," Hermione offered.

"Um, sure. I can't think in there hardly."

"Because of Harry?"

Ron shrugged. "Because of everything."

"I really do wish you'd let it out. _Cry_, Ron."

Ron shook his head. "No. I cried once."

"Those were small, silent tears. You won't be weak if you cry."

"No." Ron stopped. "Do you hear that? It sounds like Pig against the window again." Ron jumped up and ran to his room to let in his owl for the second time that night. He stroked the owls head as it hooted and went to his perch to sleep, not even waiting to see if Ron needed to send a response back to the sender of the letter.

"Is it from your mum?" Hermione asked, walking in through the doorway.

Ron nodded. "Yeah…" He looked up from the parchment and stared at Hermione.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Ginny's being taken to St. Mungo's to be fully checked out. Mum says we can Floo there if we want to or we can wait until morning."

"Did she say what happened?"

Ron nodded slowly. "Yeah. Ginny reached through the veil."

"Through the veil?"

"Mum said no one's ever been partially through it. They want to check her out, keep her for a couple of days to make sure she's okay."

"The veil is so secret. No one really knows what's on the other side… except death."

Ron nodded again. "Right. But, Hermione, that's not all… Ginny brought someone back with her from the _other_ side of the veil."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't speak.

"She brought back Harry, Hermione. He's at St. Mungo's as well."

* * *

Hermione brushed off the ash and powder as she emerged from the fireplace at St. Mungo's. Ron came right behind her. They took off up the stairs in their sockless, sneaker clad feet. Ron pushed open the door to the floor with great force and ran down the hall until he met with a congregation of people waiting outside one of the hospital rooms. He found his parents in the middle of the crowd and made his way inside, taking Hermione by the hand with him.

"Mum!" Ron exclaimed breathlessly. "We came as soon as we got your owl."

"I made him put on shoes, though," Hermione said.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. She looked sad and worried. Ron thought she should look happy. Ginny and Harry were both here and alive! It was a time to be happy. They'd all be together for Christmas. He didn't understand why there was such sadness in her expression.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked.

"You need to talk to the medi-wizard. He wants you to do something for him." Mrs. Weasley's eyes flickered over to Hermione. "Both of you." She pointed to the old wizard with a graying beard talking to a little nurse with black hair.

Ron and Hermione made their way over to him.

"Hi," the old wizard said. "Are you Harry's friends?"

Ron nodded. "I'm Ron, that's Hermione. My mum said you wanted us to do something?"

The old wizard nodded. "Yes." He cleared his throat. He handed the small black haired witch a clipboard. "Will you take this to the desk for me and give it to Claude?"

The witch nodded and walked away.

The old wizard redirected his attention to Ron and Hermione. "I used to work in the Department of Mysteries myself. A bit of consulting work, if you will. I've always been a fully trained medi-wizard at St. Mungo's since after Hogwarts. But, that is neither here nor there. No… In my fifty years with the Department of Mysteries no witch or wizard has ever come back from the other side. Few have gone through, truth be told, but none have gone back. For one _to_ come back is miraculous to say the least. I daresay I haven't the slightest notion of how your sister did it."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.

"Mr. Potter has to stay in St. Mungo's for a little bit of time. He was, technically… well, there's no real delicate way to put this, he was indeed _dead_ for a short time. That veil is what separates the living world from the dead world. The dead assemble on the other side. If you listen, you can hear them speak. Sometimes they will come right up to the veil to talk to you. Or, well, to talk to someone deep in a trance. The Muggles call it…"

"A séance?" Hermione offered. "Where people get together to try and contact the dead?"

The old wizard nodded. "Yes. Only, at the Department of Mysteries it is used as a means to find things out. It's all very mysterious. I'm not really supposed to be telling you all this. I was there to oversee these _talkings_ because people never are quite the same after contacting the dead."

"But there are ghosts," Ron interrupted.

"Ghosts and poltergeists are much, much different. Ghosts are merely the shell – the essence of the dead. Ghosts are not _souls_. Souls are what lie beyond the veil. Harry went over there a grown boy. He came back a grown boy. But in the between time? We don't know what happened to him. I hear he knows the two of you best. We need you to help jog his memory. I tried memory retrieval spells and charms and potions but none of them have seemed to work."

Ron's mind immediately flew to memories of Neville's parents handing him bits of gum wrapper in the "mental ward" as Ron liked to call it, even though Hermione hated it when he did so.

"He seems fine otherwise – physically. Mentally though… I have suspicions. I have doubts over what will happen. I'd like to know what occurred while he was on the other side of that veil but until he won't talk to anybody."

"We'll try our best," Hermione said.

"He's in this room."

The old wizard opened the door to Harry's room. He walked inside and cleared his throat.

"Mr. Potter, your friends have come to talk to you."

Hermione and Ron looked at the bed. Harry looked so small. He had slunk himself down and pulled the covers up to his chin while he laid on his side, using his arm as a pillow – the real pillow lying on the cold tile floor. His hair was black and shaggy and unruly as always. His scar was still red and visible on his forehead. His eyes, though, looked hollow. As if Harry wasn't really inside.

"Harry?" Hermione said hesitantly. She took a step towards the bed. Then, another. And another. She sat down in the chair next to him. She took his hand in hers. "Harry?"

The seventeen year old boy looked away from her. "I don't know you," he barked. "Why won't everyone just leave me alone?"

The old wizard sighed. Ron looked horrified.

"I'll leave you two alone with him. I have other patients to check. I'll be back in about an hour to see if you've made any progress." The old wizard left, shutting the door behind him.

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand. "Harry? Harry, please, it's _me_. Hermione. And that's Ron, don't you remember us?"

Harry took in a deep breath. "Hand me that pillow."

Hermione picked up the pillow from the floor and handed it to Harry. He sat up and put it behind his back. He stretched his arms out in front of him and yawned. He fumbled around the bedside table for his glasses. He put them on and carefully looked at Ron for a minute and then turned his gaze to Hermione. He tilted his head back and began to laugh.

* * *

**To Be Continued…**


	20. Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hermione looked alarmed. "Harry? Harry, what's so funny?"

"Nothing." Harry stopped laughing and looked at Hermione. "I know who you bloody are."

Hermione studied his face. His laughter seemed to have melted the hollow look in his eyes. She flung her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. From over her shoulder Harry looked up at Ron who still seemed to be in shock.

"I thought you were dead," Ron stated.

"So did I."

"What happened?" Hermione asked eagerly. She sat at the end of his bed. Ron came around to sit in the unoccupied chair. "And why don't you want anyone to know you remember?"

Harry sighed. "My whole wizarding life people have asked me questions because of this _fucking scar_. I'm tired of answering questions. I just want to be left alone."

"Oh. You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Hermione said.

"No, no. I don't mind. It's telling my story to fifty doctors and then to the Ministry and then to the _Daily Prophet_ and then to everyone at school. I'd rather everyone think I was suffering from amnesia."

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"It's a Muggle term," said Hermione, "for when someone can't remember who they are and don't have any memories. They're fully capable of functioning, though. Not like those here who have been… Well, not like the Longbottoms."

"Oh."

Harry continued, "I suppose I can just start from the beginning. Did you two feel that force I sent out to Voldemort?"

Hermione nodded. "It was powerful. What was it?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. It was like every fiber inside of me was filled with this need to just get rid of him once and for all. I was so angry and filled with hatred for him that I couldn't handle it. I let it fill me up inside and then I sort of let it explode. It made Voldemort weak so I pushed him through the veil but he had a hold on me and I went with him." Harry swallowed. He avoided his best mates' eyes. "On the other side everything felt like ice. I was freezing and shivering. Then, I began to float. And I floated around and I saw people. I saw people who I recognized from portraits at school and people from our History of Magic text. Then, I saw Cedric and he… well, he thanked me for trying to help him at the Triwizard Tournament." Harry wiped at his eyes. "And he took me to my parents. They were there, my parents were there with _Sirius_. It was like a reunion…" Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. "For the second time in my life I actually felt truly _happy_."

"What was the first?" Ron asked.

Harry looked at his friend. "Do you really want to know the answer to that?"

Ron made a face. "No, I don't. Never-mind. Just finish your bloody story."

Harry sniggered. "Once I found my parents and Sirius I didn't feel cold anymore. I felt warm and peaceful. How long was I gone?"

"A couple days," Hermione answered.

Harry shook his head. "It felt like forever. I guess it was a heaven of sorts. Everyone was there. Good people and bad people. But, no one fought. Everyone just _was_. And no one talked. You just _knew_. When I saw Cedric I _knew_ he was thankful for my help – as feeble as I thought it was – at the Tournament. It's impossible to really explain it to you. You wouldn't be able to understand if you couldn't be there. Then, I felt a tug, like someone was pulling me away. That's when I found myself looking at the veil again and I saw Ginny's hand."

"And you took it?"

Harry nodded. "I was so happy there, though. But, I saw Ginny's hand and I felt…" Harry glanced at Ron.

"Oh, just tell it already. I won't deck you."

"I felt her desire and need and want of me." Harry blushed. "I saw her reaching for me. None of the witches and wizards on the other side of the veil ever find their way back to it once they're on the other side. It's not in the nature of souls to search. If they ever find it it's because someone has pulled them there and then when they're done they go back to a state of… not knowing where the veil is. Or not caring. Or both. But, I couldn't go back to that state. I finally got my time with my parents and Sirius. An infinite amount of time, if you can understand that. Although, I don't know if you can."

"You came back because you love my sister?" Ron asked, completely bewildered.

Harry blinked a few times. "I suppose. I don't know. No and yes. Everything is different now. I can feel pain again – physical, I mean – but, I'm not really _here_. I feel like I'm somewhere up there." Harry motioned with his hand to the air above him. "I suspect your sister might feel a bit the same way, but probably not as powerful as I'm feeling it."

"Harry," Hermione whispered. "This is amazing. I cannot believe you're back." She narrowed her eyes. "Voldemort is safely on the other side, isn't he?"

Harry nodded. "I think so. I didn't see him. That doesn't mean he wasn't there. I didn't see a lot of people."

"So, you're just going to go through the rest of your life pretending this didn't happen?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. Has the _Daily Prophet_ said anything about Voldemort yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think anyone knows. The Order does. I _suspect_ that's one of the things they discussed in their secret meeting tonight. Er, last night by now. Fudge knows, I'm sure, but he hasn't made a formal statement."

"Well, we can all just tell everyone I pushed Voldemort through the veil and he died."

"Is the public allowed to know about the veil?" Ron asked.

"I don't know. Doesn't matter," commented Harry. "They don't have to know that I died as well. I don't want the questions. I need privacy. I need to just _be_ _Harry _for a while. I've fulfilled my role as the Boy Who Lived and now I want to be the Boy Who Was Left Alone. You can understand that, can't you?"

"I can try," Hermione said. She smiled at Harry. "I cried, you know. I cried long and hard. I thought you were dead."

"I _was_ dead."

"Well, we thought you were _gone_," said Ron. "Never coming back."

Harry looked at Ron amused. "Did you cry as well?"

Ron shook his head. "No, not once."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Such a _male_. So, Harry, how long do you have to stay here?"

"For a while. They don't really talk to me; everyone talks around me. I hear that I'll be here for a week. I think to make sure I'm all right physically. I suppose I'll have to let everyone know I'm all right mentally as well. I don't know when, though. I'll probably just say I have no recollection of what went on. I don't care if it hinders the Department of Mysteries. I can't take more questions. And I seriously cannot take anymore fan clubs."

Ron sniggered at the old jokes they used to say to Harry in second year when Colin Creevy wouldn't relent with that bloody camera of his. If Colin knew all this it would surely be even more publicity within Hogwarts for Harry.

"But, you'll be all right?" asked Ron. "I mean, does coming back from the dead fuck you up?"

"Ron!" Hermione cried.

"Er, sorry." He looked at Harry intently. "Well, does it?"

"I don't know. How many times do you think I've come back from the dead? I'm not an expert. I feel all right. A bit hungry though. And I think some of my bits are backwards."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "_What_?"

Harry sniggered. "I mean, like my heart feels funny. My lungs feel funny. Maybe I'm just not used to having to breathe again, I dunno."

"You didn't breathe on the other side of the veil?"

"No, Ron, I _was_. When you're on the other side you just _are_. You're not a person… you're just… I cannot explain this." Harry leaned back against the headboard of his bed and yawned. "But, I'm very tired." Suddenly, Harry looked a bit cross. "I haven't seen Ginny either. I don't know if she knows what's going on."

"Did you have time to explain this all to her?"

Harry nodded. "Right when I came out. We… talked. Discussed what had happened. But, then, the door to the room was opened and Department people took us away. A medi-wizard was called to check us over. I refused to say anything so Ginny just told them she had reached into the veil and took me out. She didn't tell them anything else, but I haven't seen her since we left the Ministry." Harry looked at the clock on the wall. "And that was nearly two hours ago."

"We'll talk to the old wizard and see if we can't get her to visit you as well," Hermione said. "She's in her own hospital room, though. They're checking her over. Everyone seems extremely concerned about you two. I do hope you're all right and they don't find anything wrong with you."

"What a thing to say, Hermione," Ron snapped. "Let's not make our recently un-dead friend feel less worried or anything."'

Harry ignored them. "Time is so… strange."

"How so, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"It's been two hours since I've seen Ginny but it doesn't feel like two hours at all. Time is infinite on the other side…" Harry's voice trailed off. "You wouldn't understand."

Hermione frowned. She didn't like to be told she wouldn't understand anything. She prided herself on being too clever to _not_ understand something. She opened her mouth to say something but Ron was shaking his head, willing her not to. So, she kept her mouth shut – a big feat for Hermione.

"Are you coming back to Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

Harry turned his head and looked at Ron. He studied his red headed friend as though he hadn't seen him in a lifetime. He looked at Ron's freckled face and blue eyes and lanky frame sitting in a chair so small for him he seemed to over power it. He looked at Ron's long hair and how it was straight and fell into his eyes if he didn't blow it back with an upward turn of his mouth. Harry turned to Hermione. He studied her as well – her hair that seemed to be more curly now then bushy, her eyes that were always wide and observant, the slight slope of her nose, her swollen, pouty bottom lip, the light purple love bites on her neck, her black lashes and thin eyebrows, the curvature of her pajama top inches below her throat…

Harry turned back to Ron who had his eyebrows raised in question at the way Harry was studying his girlfriend.

"Hogwarts? I suppose."

"You _suppose_?"

Harry nodded. "You two look different. What's different?"

Ron shrugged. "We're the same as we were two days ago."

"Will you two get Ginny in here for me? But, don't tell anyone I remember what happened."  
"Can we tell them you know who you are?" asked Hermione.

"I don't care."

Hermione stood up from the foot of Harry's bed. Ron got up from the chair. They walked to the door and shut it behind them. In the hallway Hermione found the old wizard who went to fetch Ginny for Harry.

Then, Ron and Hermione made their way over to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"How is he? Is he all right?" Mrs. Weasley inquired.

Hermione nodded. "I think he's fine. He doesn't remember what happened, but he remembers who he is."

"What _does_ he remember?"

Ron looked at his mother. "Um… Well, he remembers pushing Voldemort through the veil. And he remembers getting up and…"

"Seeing Ginny," Hermione finished for him. "Nothing in between. He didn't know two days had passed."

Hermione felt guilty lying to the Weasleys. They had been so good to her and let her into their home without question or hesitation. But, Hermione understood Harry's need for privacy.

"He's tired," Hermione added. "He got tired while talking to us. I think he wants… to be left quiet for a while."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley nodded.

"How's Ginny?" asked Ron.

"They say she looks fine. She's a bit shaken up," Mr. Weasley answered. "I think perhaps she's in a bit of shock – just from seeing Harry again. She'll most likely come home tomorrow morning."

Ron yawned.

"Why don't you two head back to the Burrow?" Mrs. Weasley suggested. "I'll send Bill or Charlie with you."

"Oh, we don't need a chaperone," Ron muttered.

"Well, I didn't always chaperone the twins and looked at how they turned out! Best if Percy went with you. Bill and Charlie's wives are probably tired of them never being at home as it is – especially as Fleur is… Well, never-mind."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Fleur is what?"

"Nothing."

"Why in the name of Merlin do you _do_ that?" Ron demanded, annoyed. "Fleur is _what_?"

"She's just been sick the past few days." Mrs. Weasley smiled dreamily.

Ron made a face. "That last thing we need is more bloody Weasleys. I'm going home."

* * *

Ginny climbed into Harry's bed and laid down next to him. She curled his hair around her fingers. She breathed him in and sighed.

"I'm sorry I brought you back."

"Why?"

"You said on the other side of the veil you felt truly happy. It sounds like heaven. You didn't hurt and no one fought and you were with your parents and Sirius…"

"I didn't _have_ to come back, though," Harry said. "I could have turned away from your hand, but I took it instead. I felt your desire and passion for me." Harry chuckled. "It was so intense I couldn't refuse."

Ginny blushed fiercely.

"No, no, don't be embarrassed. It matches how much I want you as well."

Ginny smiled, but it was a sad smile. "I'm still sorry."

Harry shrugged. "Well, there was one thing I kept thinking about on the other side of the veil," he said, really half lying.

"What's that?"

"That I didn't shag you nearly enough times."

Ginny giggled. "Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah."

"But, you just got some two days ago!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Time on the other side of the veil feels _infinite_. I haven't had any in many, many lifetimes."

"Wow, I guess we have a lot of time to make up for."

"Lock the door, Ginny."

Ginny waved her wand. "_Colloportus_." She dropped her wand. It hit the floor with a soft _clank_ and she wrapped her arms around Harry.

* * *

They brought Harry a plate full of the Weasley family Christmas Feast on the twenty-fifth. Ginny was out of the hospital but flooed herself there everyday – whether or not her parents liked it. Harry opened all of his gifts and continued to maintain loss of memory.

Back to the Burrow Ron and Hermione had done little more than hold hands since Ron walked out of the room on sex being offered right to him. They both seemed apprehensive about even trying anything – one because the house was over run with random Weasleys and two because they had let things escalate so far in such a short period of time, they were worried about it happening again.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went to collect Harry from St. Mungo's on New Year's Eve. It was the same day Cornelius Fudge made his announcement confirming the defeat of Voldemort. The plan was to spend New Year's Eve at the Burrow and then immediately go back to Hogwarts so Harry could avoid any extra attention. The _Daily Prophet_ was sure to show up on the Burrow doorstep sooner than not and Harry preferred to be as far away from them as humanly possible.

That night nobody seemed to notice that Harry stayed on the couch in the lounge with a blanket wrapped around him while Hermione and Ron camped out in Ron's room on the floor with the door wide open. Ron held Hermione close. They hadn't discussed Harry's return. The subject was always avoided. Neither of them knew why.

Hermione couldn't sleep. She could tell by Ron's breathing he wasn't sleeping either.

"Ron?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you have your Defense Against the Dark Arts book?"

"It's in my trunk."

Hermione sat up and scooted over to Ron's trunk. She opened it and grabbed the book.

"You're studying _now_? It's like three o'clock in the morning."

"I know it's late. But, something keeps bothering me about Harry returning."

Ron didn't answer. Hermione looked at him but his eyes were closed and his arms out, waiting for her to lie back down next to him.

"Does nothing bother you about it?"

"Dunno."

"'Dunno?'" Hermione repeated. She shook her head and flipped through the book. "Something isn't right about it. People don't just come back from the dead, you know."

"I don't know. Come back here so I can sleep."

Hermione ignored him. "Ah, found it! Oh… oh, dear. Oh, _fuck_."

Ron's eyes flew open. "If you said 'fuck' then it's definitely bad. What's wrong?"

"It's just as I thought. I mean, it makes sense, I suppose. Although, it's bad. I think it's bad anyway. Death is natural – shouldn't go messing with death. Of course Voldemort—"

"Hermione, you know I love you and all that, yeah? But, you drive me mad when you babble like that where I can't understand you. Makes you sound mental."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Hermione snapped. She cleared her throat and read from the book. "'_In order to properly defend oneself, one must be knowledgeable of the different types of Potions that could prove to be a deadly poison as well as the Killing Curse. One must be completely knowledgeable of these things because one only gets one death and therefore must be equipped to defend themselves against it. One gets one birth, one life, and one death. These numbers are not negotiable._'"

"So, Harry got his one death. So, what?"

"So, what? _So, what_! Ron, it means Harry can't die again."

Ron rolled his eyes. "No one is immortal unless they have the Elixir of Life and we took care of that in first year. Now, come back, please?"

"This is serious, Ron. I knew there was something off about Harry's return. Once you're dead, you're dead. I knew I had read it somewhere before. What if Harry can't die? _Ever_?"

"So, now Harry's immortal? That sounds like a load of bullocks, that does."

"But, it says in the book—"

"Can't books be wrong?"

Hermione shrugged. "I – I… I don't know."

"Well, go get your wand and yell _Avada Kedavra_ at him and see if he dies or not."

"Ron, take this seriously, _please_?"

Ron sighed. "Fine. Let's say Harry can't die. So, what? Aren't there worse things in life?"

"But… Ron… to live forever must be terrible. Everyone you ever love will die and leave you all alone. There would be no more thrill in life. You would do everything and experience everything and not die. We'll all eventually die. What's Harry going to do in a hundred years when Ginny's gone? He'll have to find a new love every hundred or so years? That's a lot of girlfriends between now and eternity."

"I dunno, it sounds like it might be kinda cool."

"But, _everyone you ever love will die_ _before you_."

Ron closed his eyes. He thought of living forever and watching Hermione die, watching his children die, watching his grandchild die, watching everyone die. It didn't make him happy. Ron reached out and pulled Hermione back to him. He tossed the book away. He wrapped his arms around her middle and linked his hands together on her stomach. He kissed her neck a few times before settling down underneath the covers.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Now, that Voldemort's gone and the fear of… well, us actually dying fighting is sort of over, will you give me an honest answer about something?"

"Yes."

"Are you ever going to leave?"

Hermione wet her lips and swallowed. "Leave?"

"Well, before you told me you were never going anywhere – that we'd be together but that's easy to say when you're not sure if you're going to live to see January. I just was curious whether or not you had plans to… stick around."

"Stick around? With you?"

"I guess that's what I mean."

"Oh, Ron, I'm never leaving. I'm never going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

"Oh, okay. Just checking."

"Are you worried I'm going to break up with you?"

"Not any time soon."

A few moments of silence passed.

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Is that the answer you wanted?"

From behind her, Hermione felt Ron smile. "That was definitely the answer I wanted."

"Oh, and Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Let's not tell Harry about what I read in my book. I'll speak to McGonagall when we arrive back at Hogwarts. She'll have some insight on it, I'm sure."

Ron nodded. "All right."

Little did the couple know that Harry had heard the entire conversation as he quietly walked up the stairs, needing to go to the loo. He leaned back against the wall outside of Ron's door and took in several deep breaths. The thought of never dying and watching Ginny, Ron, and Hermione die before him made his heart beat fast and hurt inside his chest. Harry closed his eyes and steadied himself. This was a subject that he wasn't sure whether he wanted to find out the validity in it or not.

Harry went to the loo and back downstairs to sleep on the couch. He had a bit of Dreamless Sleep Draught from Madam Pomfrey stuffed in his trunk. He took a large swig of it, not wanting to dream about living forever and everyone dying. He slept soundly for hours and woke up at the smell of bacon in the kitchen as Mrs. Weasley was up preparing a good-bye breakfast for the four Gryffindors before they set off back to Hogwarts later that morning.

* * *

**To Be Continued…**


	21. Chapter Twenty One

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

There was only one other Gryffindor in the Tower when they returned to Hogwarts. The beginning of the new term wasn't to start for another couple of days and most students wanted to take advantage of being at home without rules and curfews and professors like Snape. The other Gryffindor was a twelve year old first year with long blonde hair done in plaits. She seemed to be in awe of the four of them, always watch Ron and Hermione out of the corner of her eye. Ron noticed and was amused by her. Hermione noticed as well and might have felt threatened had the girl not been twelve – it was obvious why she chose to stare at them _all_ the time.

The first day they were back at Hogwarts, Harry mumbled something about needing to speak with McGonagall. He left and went to her office before Hermione had the chance to go there herself. Ginny, slightly put out that her boyfriend left without warning or invitation, decided to go and wander to the library.

For lack of anything else to do, Ron spread his books out on one of the tables and began to work on the last bit of his Christmas homework. Hermione had, of course, already finished hers. She began drawing up a timetable for the prefects' nightly patrols.

That's when they first noticed the little blonde first year. She sat on the couch with her nose buried in a book, but her eyes glanced over to their table constantly. Ron wasn't aware at first – he was still a thick bloke sometimes.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, poking Hermione's quill with his own.

"Timetables."

"For what? NEWTs are still a ways away!"

"Not for NEWTs, silly. For patrols. It's _our_ job but I'm doing it."

"I'd help you, you know!" Ron snapped, feeling put out at Hermione's tone.

"I know, I know. It's just easy to do it myself while you work on your essays. What else do I have to do? After all, I've already memorized _Hogwarts, A History_."

Ron couldn't miss the sarcastic tone in her voice. He smiled and turned back to his parchment and Divination book. He only looked up when Hermione tapped his quill with her own in a mocking way. He arched his eyebrows at her.

"What are you doing?" asked Hermione.

Ron tried not to look amused. "Divination."

"Rubbish."

"I agree."

"You should have quit like me."

"I'm not a quitter."

Hermione arched a single eyebrow, a trick she picked up from George. "Oh, really?"

"Now, if you _please_, I need to get back to this rubbish essay. It's my last bit of homework. If I finish it then I'll have the rest of the day and night free." Ron winked.

Hermione let out a laugh and Ron couldn't help but let his eyes stray down to her chest, her breasts bouncing slightly with the small shakes of laughter. He reached over and tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. He hated when her hair fell into her face. He liked looking at her eyes and her mouth; he wanted nothing to get in the way of that view.

That was the exact moment Hermione became aware that the small first year was looking at them, watching them flirt. She returned her eyes to her book as Hermione blushed slightly. Ron continued to write his essay but Hermione began to feel too distracted to finish her timetable. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small jar of black ink and slid it over the table to Ron. He looked up at her and their eyes met. He smiled, knowing that she had, once again, "read his mind." Ron dipped his quill into the new ink. He was grinning as he finished up the last parts of his essay. He slammed his Divination book shut loud enough to make Hermione jump.

"Finished?"

Ron nodded.

"Good job."

"Thanks."

"Are you going to help me with the prefect timetables now that you've finished all your Christmas homework?"

"Aw, come on, can't you think of anything else to do?"

"Ron!"

Ron frowned. "We were at The Burrow for such a long time—"

"Hardly more than a week and a half," interrupted Hermione.

"And it was overrun with members of my family," Ron continued, as if Hermione hadn't said anything at all. "So, now we have our own rooms… The castle's practically empty… We don't have prefect duties or Head Boy and Girl responsibilities… And it's another few hours until dinner…"

"Ron, we can't." Hermione glanced at the first year who quickly returned her eyes to her book. Hermione lowered her voice and leaned closer to Ron over the table. "Besides, that first year will know exactly what we're going to do!"

"So? Who is she going to tell? What do you think McGonagall would _actually_ do?"

"Give us detention or strip us of our Head Boy and Girl titles!"

"That'd be a shame," Ron murmured.

"Ronald!"

"Hermione!"

Hermione groaned. "You are so infuriating."

"So are you." Ron flashed her a toothy grin.

"Why don't we play chess instead?"

"Or strip poker?"

"Ron!"

Ron gave Hermione his best pout-face. She didn't back down. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, waiting. She shook her head.

"Wizard chess or timetables."

"Scheduling prefect patrols isn't my idea of fun, Hermione."

Hermione shrugged. "It needs to be done."

"Come on, we can do it after supper." Ron wiggled his eyebrows up and down. He glanced over at the couch. He lowered his voice to Hermione. "Is she staring at us?"

Hermione didn't need to look over to the couch to answer, "yes."

"Why?"

"Well," Hermione said, trying to hide her sudden amusement, "she's not really staring at _us_. She's staring at you."

"Me?" Ron's ears turned red. "Why?"

"She probably thinks you're cute."

Ron's ears stayed red. He began to feel slightly amused that a little girl would stare at him.

"I don't know why you are so surprised, especially after Lavender's behavior first term."

"Lavender wanted to see if I was hung well or not. I'm not so sure it was because she thought I was cute."

"Lots of girls think you're cute, Ron. Particularly the younger years who don't know any better." Hermione giggled. "Why do you always act so surprised when someone fancies you? It's not as if it's never happened before."

"I think we've had this conversation before," Ron said.

"You just don't realize how cute you are," Hermione cooed playfully. She laughed again when Ron's ears turned an even brighter red.

"Well, remind me how cute I am upstairs."

Hermione shook her head. She turned around in her chair when she heard the portrait hole open. Harry climbed through and walked over to the table. He sat down next to Hermione and sighed.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked.

"Fine, actually. I've been looking around for Ginny but I couldn't find her. Madam Pince said she left the library about ten minutes ago so I thought I'd check here."

"We haven't seen her," Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. "Oh, well. It's nothing important. Just wanted… well, never-mind."

"It's probably best you don't finish that statement," Ron said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Do I even still need to pretend around you that I _don't_ snog your sister?"

"It's not the snogging I don't want to think about."

"Oh, right, the shagging," Harry said absentmindedly. "Are you guys hungry?"

Ron clenched his fist. "_No_."

Harry looked around the common room. "This place looks smaller… Anyway. What are you up to? I'm bored. Let's go for a fly."

Ron studied Harry. His best mate's attention span had been faltering since his reappearance from the veil. His statements were all over the place. He'd jump from "how are you" to Quidditch to Potions all in the same breath. But, now, Ron didn't want to go for a fly.

"That sounds lovely," Hermione said. "You can go for a fly around the lake and I can finish these timetables."

Ron shook his head. "I don't really feel up for a fly today, mate."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I'll just go then…"

"Why not?" Hermione asked Ron.

Ron just shrugged.

"What else is there to do around here? We can go to the kitchens. Did I already ask you if you were hungry or not?"

"Well, I guess I wouldn't mind some hot chocolate," Hermione mused.

Ron had had enough. He was not in the mood to share his time with anyone other than Hermione. He stood up and walked over to the other side of the table. He looked down at Harry.

"Sorry, mate, but we're going to be otherwise… engaged…"

Harry raised his eyebrows in question. Ron picked Hermione up and slung her over his shoulder so that her feet were in front of him and her head to his back. She laughed and hit his back with her fists, but not hard enough to hurt him.

"Put me down this instant, Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

The little blonde first year had forgotten all about her book and was staring at the seventh years in front of her. Her eyes were wide and she looked a bit scandalized.

"We're going upstairs. If we're not down for dinner don't come knocking."

Harry looked rather amused. He nodded. "Sure thing, mate." He sniggered and watched as Ron carried a struggling Hermione up the boys' staircase. She was still ordering him to put her down. What made her think that _now_ of all times Ron would actually start listening to her? Harry laughed at the thought. He stood up and noticed the blonde first year. He had no idea who she was. He wasn't even sure if he had ever seen her before.

"Eep," she said, picking up her book again.

"They put on quite a show, yeah?"

The girl nodded.

"Better that then them bickering. I'm Harry."

"I know," the girl said, blushing. "I've seen them bicker before," she said in a small voice. "All the first years have gotten used to them. We don't pay much attention anymore."

"Why are you here during the holiday?"

"Oh… my aunt and uncle don't really approve of magic."

Harry let out a laugh. "We could definitely exchange some good stories there…"

* * *

Ron opened the door to his room and kicked it closed. He sat Hermione down on his bed and grinned widely at her. She smoothed out her hair and crossed her legs. She placed her hands in her lap and looked at Ron calmly.

"I don't think I should even be speaking to you right now. What you did – in front of a first year!"

"I'm sure she knows all about the birds and the bees, Hermione." Ron took his wand out of his back pocket and pointed at the door. "_Colloportus_." He kicked off his shoes and socks and sat next to Hermione, pushing her hair away from her neck.

"Ron!"

"Hermione!" Ron said, mockingly. He reached down to unlace her sneakers and pull off her socks.

She folded her arms across her chest and looked Ron square in the eye.

"Come on," Ron said. "I really just want to kiss you. I haven't gotten a proper kiss since Harry came back from the… veil. And we have four days until the rest of Hogwarts comes back and I'd like to spend some of that time with you…" Ron gave Hermione another excellent pout-face. She couldn't help but melt.

"Oh, fine, but I don't want to miss dinner."

Ron nodded. "Sure thing. We have _hours_ until dinner."

"Only three and a half."

Ron smiled. "Excellent." He captured Hermione's mouth with his and pulled her underneath him as he laid her back on his bed. He felt like his lungs were on fire. It was hard to breathe. He swallowed as best he could with Hermione's tongue in his mouth. He lifted her up and pulled off her jumper and the t-shirt underneath it. He dropped them onto the floor and massaged her shoulders as he watched her tongue lightly lick across her full bottom lip in an attempt to wet them before Ron could kiss her again.

Hermione snaked her hands underneath Ron's jumper and felt his smooth skin. He always gave a slight shudder whenever she first touched his flesh, as if her touch was electric. Ron was still watching her mouth as she bit the corner of her bottom lip while pulling his jumper up and over his head. The t-shirt he had on went with it and Hermione discarded them onto the floor next to the bed. She missed the sight and smell of him so close to her while they had been at The Burrow. She arched up into him, feeling him twitch at her touch even underneath the layers of thick jeans and boxers.

Ron bent down and kissed her neck. Hermione undid Ron's jeans and slipped her hand inside. She couldn't stroke him the way she wanted to – the way that made Ron close his eyes and steady his breathing and whisper things in her ear. She took her hand away from him and pushed down on his jeans. Ron reached down and pulled them off. He ran his hands across Hermione's shoulders and slid the straps of her bra down. He kissed her shoulders and trailed kisses down her throat to her chest. He reached around and unhooked her bra – something he had only recently become and expert at. He kissed each breast, licking and sucking on each nipple so gently it caused Hermione's hands to shake with anticipation.

Ron sat up on his knees and undid Hermione's jeans. He tugged at them, sliding them over her hips. He took her knickers with him as he shed her of her last bits of clothing. He caressed her legs starting at her ankles and ending up at her thighs, pushing her knees apart as he passed them. Hermione still felt her heart beat nervously every time he looked at her – all of her – in the light. But, he always touched her so tenderly, as if he was afraid to hurt her and always had a look in his eyes of pure want and love that made Hermione's nervousness fade away.

Dipping his tongue into the "neatest" and "coolest" part of Hermione's anatomy – in Ron's opinion anyway – he felt how slick she was. This was by far the best in his opinion. It wasn't the taste or smell that turned him on like it did a lot of other boys (or so he had heard from the way they all talked in the dorms) but it was the fact that it made Hermione satisfied in a way that no one else could manage – not even herself. She no longer had to instruct Ron. He had become so efficient at it that he could tease her for an hour or make her body shudder and muscle contract in under two minutes.

Ron preferred the teasing.

Perhaps it was because they knew things about one another – like passing the butter at the dinner table – that made Ron know exactly which buttons he needed to press to make Hermione physically happy.

After she came Hermione was always a bit dizzy and breathless. It gave Ron the perfect opportunity to mutter a cleaning charm with a wave of his wand because he knew she didn't like the way she tasted on his mouth. Ron kissed her stomach and couldn't resist giving her breasts a gentle squeeze as he nuzzled in next to her neck. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed against him until he laid on his bed on his back. She rested her head on his shoulder as she steadied herself. Every time Ron did that to her she became more and more dizzy afterwards as each time she came harder and harder. And if Ron liked to do it she certainly wasn't going to tell him to stop.

"You're lovely."

Ron smiled. "Am I?"

"Definitely."

Hermione kissed Ron's neck and he lifted her up by her hips and set her down on him so that she was straddling him over his stomach. She sat up, her partially bushy, partially curly hair billowing over her shoulders, hiding her breasts. Ron reached up and pushed her hair away from her chest. He didn't look at her breasts, the way Hermione expected him to. He kept his gaze right in her brown eyes as he played with her breasts.

"It's my turn to play with you," Hermione said, removing Ron's hands from her chest. He frowned but wasn't too disappointed as Hermione scooted down his body and placed her hands inside his boxers.

* * *

When Ginny walked through the portrait hole she found Harry sitting on the arm of the couch talking to a small girl with braids on the other side. Ginny could tell Harry was trying to make her laugh. She recognized the girl as a first year, but she couldn't remember her name. Ginny had seen her tagging along with one of Dean's little half-sisters that he never talked to himself.

Harry's entire face lit up when he saw Ginny walking into the common room. He smiled at her and motioned for her to come over. Ginny sat on the couch just next to the arm Harry had deemed a chair. He twirled her ponytail in one of his hands absentmindedly.

"We've been sharing old family stories," Harry told Ginny.

"Oh?"

"Well, Dursley-family stories anyway."

Ginny frowned. "How depressing."

"I can laugh about them now that I'll never have to see them ever again."

Ginny nodded. "Too true."

"I live with my aunt and uncle as well," the blonde said. "They're nowhere near as terrible as the Dursleys sound, though. They feed me and I never had to sleep in a cupboard. They sent me a Christmas present as well. They just don't want to deal with magic."

Ginny didn't want to change the subject but she was curious as to where Ron and Hermione were. "Where's my brother?" asked Ginny.

"Is Ron your brother?" the blonde asked.

Ginny nodded.

"I should have guessed. You have the same hair."

Ginny sniggered. "The whole family has this hair. Annoying really, everyone knows exactly who you are because you have the Weasley hair."

"Kind of like having a lightning shaped scar?" Harry asked, his eyes twinkling just a bit as he looked down at Ginny. "Anyway, Ron carried Hermione upstairs and told me not to worry if they don't show up at breakfast."

Ginny made a face. "That's lovely. Did you speak with McGonagall?"

Harry nodded. He looked at the first year. "Hey, sorry, but we're suppose to meet with a professor about now… before dinner…" Harry stood up. Ginny stood up as well, looking at him questioningly. He took her hand and led her out of the common room and up to the third floor corridor where they could sit on the top of the stairs as they had done so many times in the past.

"Well, I talked to McGonagall," Harry said simply.

"Wait. You were rather vague this morning when you told me about the conversation you overheard last night. What exactly did Hermione say?"

"Hermione read in her Defense Against the Dark Arts book that people only get one birth, one life, and one death and those numbers cannot be negotiated."

"Does going through the veil count as your death?"

"Well, I _died_," Harry said.

"So, what, you can't die again? You're going to live forever? Can't you just walk through the veil again when you feel ready to die?"

Harry held up his hands. "Whoa, slow down. That's what I was discussing with McGonagall for over two hours. Where were you?"

"In the library trying to find information on the veil." Ginny shook her head. "There is none and I mean _none_. Then, I just walked around the lake, thinking. Tell me what McGonagall said."

"Oh. Well, she doesn't know much about the veil either. She learnt a bit when Sirius went through. Apparently the Department of Mysteries have never had anyone go through and come back. A lot of Muggles have died and seen the light and returned to their bodies. But, those aren't real deaths, according to McGonagall. And, yes, you only get one."

"So, if you walked through the veil again what would happen?"

"I dunno. If I really can't die again then I'd walk through and be a flesh and blood body walking around on the other side. I could come and go as I pleased."

Ginny looked thoroughly horrified. "Are you serious, Harry? You _can't_ die?"

"McGonagall doesn't know for sure. She thinks I can. I think I can. I don't think I was meant to live forever. What am I going to do from now until eternity anyway? There's too many unanswered questions."

"Like?"

"Like… if the world explodes would I just go floating around in space? Can I swim underwater without gillyweed for hours without drowning? Do I age? On my eight thousandth birthday will I even look like a human any longer or will I age into a wrinkly piece of nothing?"

"I don't like those questions."

"I don't like thinking about the answers. Of course, the only way to see if I truly _won't _die is to try and kill me. McGonagall is going to talk with some other Order members and with some wizards in the Department of Mysteries to see if they can't figure all this out. Apparently, Hermione could have possibly stumbled across something _big_. If it ever got out that disappearing behind the veil and reappearing later causes immortality… well, then, the Ministry would have a problem on their hands of people trying to live forever."

"Oh, Harry. We'll all die and you'll be all alone for the rest of… for the rest of time."

Harry frowned. "I'm not going to live forever. All my problems were suppose to end with the death of Voldemort. They're not suppose to just now begin."

"I know." Ginny reached out and rubbed Harry's cheek with her thumb. "When will McGonagall know?"

"No idea. It feels a bit odd that now I'm hoping for death when before I would do anything to keep from dying." Harry smiled sadly at Ginny. "Of course, McGonagall did say that she didn't think I was immortal. In fact, she laughed at the thought. She's fairly certain the book Hermione read only said that you get one death because no one has ever gotten two before. The book will rewrite itself when I die again. Hey, do you fancy a fly?"

"Fancy a fly?"

"Yeah. Around the lake. I've been bored all day long."

"I don't know, it's really cold out. It began to snow while I was on my walk. I had to come back early."

Harry's smile went away. "Oh. Hmph. We could always go to the Room of Requirement."

Ginny laughed loudly. She had not expected that suggestion from Harry. "As short as your attention span has been lately, that's the _one_ thing you seem to be able to concentrate just fine on."

Harry shrugged. "What can I say? You occupy me body and mind like nothing else can."

* * *

Ron and Hermione laid facing each other like always. Ron was using one of his arms as a pillow underneath his head while his other hand freely played with Hermione's fingers. She comfortably rested against a stack of Ron's pillows, her hair pushed back away from her face by Ron earlier. They laid there completely naked and neither of them seemed the least bit aware of that fact. All the blankets and sheets were in a tangled pile at the foot of Ron's bed. Oddly enough, neither of them felt cold.

After Ron had indulged himself between Hermione's thighs a second time he felt a little bit tired. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before at The Burrow and was forced to get up early to go back to Hogwarts.

"Are you still afraid of spiders?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen any around the castle in a while." Ron shuddered. "Although the thought of them still sends chills up my spine. Their eight legs and eyes. It's disgusting." Ron's eyes narrowed. "Is your greatest fear still failing all your subjects?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows in question.

"During OWLs you freaked out because your Boggart turned into McGonagall telling you you had failed everything."

"Well, I've calmed down a bit this year with studies – although I still think it's _extremely_ important to start studying for NEWTs as soon as possible. After all, they're going to help decide our futures. And, of course, I still get all my homework done in advanced so I'm not staying up until dawn scribbling down nonsense about the importance of the correct boiling point for the Paralysis Draught."

Ron blushed. "It wasn't dawn. I got an hour of sleep before breakfast."

"And dawn is about an hour and a half before breakfast begins," Hermione said. "But, your lack of enthusiasm over essays is one of the things I love about you."

"Oh, yeah? What else do you love about me?"

Hermione breathed in deeply. "Oh, I don't know. Your long hair… the way your ears turn red before any other part of your face when you blush… the way you don't let me win when we bicker and" – Hermione stifled a small laugh – "now, I think you're even more stubborn about not giving in when we fight… And I love how we still fight, I think it makes us us and everyone else has certainly come to expect it… Oh, there's lots of things I love about you. I really do love, though, that you calm me down whenever I get riled up over something. I've even begun to think more rationally about SPEW, haven't I?"

"Yeah, you're not trying to force anyone to sign up anymore. It's a relief, really."

"Well, what do you love about me?"

"I love you?" Ron asked, giving Hermione his best mockingly bewildered look.

"That's not funny!"

"Sorry, sorry, okay… Well… The way you look when you get mad and how fire would shoot out of your eyes if that was possible… or your hair – it's neither frizzy nor curly… or how you're half my size and you still fight back as if you could _actually_ take me in a real fist fight." Ron laughed at that thought. Hermione was so small compared to him. "But, I like you small. For whatever reason you fit me small, like a missing piece. I love the way we interact without talking – passing the marmalade or biscuits or ink bottles." Ron's eyes flickered away from Hermione's for a moment, trying to think of reasons why he loved her so dearly. He told her he loved her a few times but he wasn't so sure she knew the extent of his feelings for her.

"Is that all?"

"Not even close."

Hermione smiled.

"I think most of all I love the way you make me feel. Like, I fear my words won't make sense and my heart flies right out of my chest and when I look at you while you sleep my entire chest just hurts with…" Ron looked around the room again. "Well, I don't know, I reckon it hurts with love."

"You are _beautiful_ with words even if you stumble over them sometimes. I didn't know I made you feel like that. It sounds rather intense."

"You have no idea."

"Aren't you afraid to love someone that much?"

Ron shook his head. "Why? It feels wonderful."

"You know what I also love?"

"What?"

"That you make me feel so loved."

Ron smiled. "That's what I'm here for. Just don't ever tell anyone else I have what you said was a so-called _romantic_ side. I don't think I could live down the ridicule from the other seventh years."

"All right. It'll be our secret."

There was a familiar sounding rapping against the window. Ron turned and looked at the glass. He groaned.

"What the fuck is with these bloody owls always coming to the windows? I'm getting right tired of it."

Ron got up from his bed and opened up the window, letting a swirling bit of snowy wind inside. Hermione smiled at the sight of naked Ron standing across the room from her – the slight red chest hair, the pale skin, the bum! Ron shivered and closed the window tight. He took the parchment from the owl and looked at it.

"It's for you."

Hermione took it from Ron's hand and unrolled it. "It's from McGonagall," she said. "She's leaving for London in an hour and wants to make sure I can meet her tomorrow morning bright and early before breakfast. She needs to discuss something with me." Hermione looked up at Ron. "I don't know what it could be about?"

Ron shrugged.

"Oh, you're allowed to come to, if you like." Hermione walked quickly over to Ron's desk and picked up a quill. She jotted down a response to McGonagall and tied it to the bird's leg. Ron opened the window, letting in more cold air, and shut it back tight as soon as the bird had taken flight.

"Couldn't she have picked a warmer way to contact you?" Ron murmured as he jumped into his bed and pulled the blankets up over his body. "That wind nearly froze my arse off."

Hermione climbed underneath the covers next to him. "Well, a warmer way would have been to come up and find me herself. McGonagall probably knows what we're doing and doesn't fancy interrupting… Do you suppose she'll still teach Transfiguration this term?"

"Why wouldn't she?"

"Well, I assumed because she's the new Headmistress."

"She is?"

"Well, she was Deputy Headmistress, wasn't she?"

"Oh, right. No one is as good at Transfiguration as her, right? She'll have to still be the Transfiguration professor."

Hermione snuggled in closer to Ron. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "Wake me up when it's time for dinner. I'm a bit tired all of a sudden."

"Sure," Ron promised, knowing very well that if Hermione fell asleep in his arms he was most likely to do the same.

And that's exactly what he did.

* * *

To Be Continued…

**A/N: I hope that began to clear up a bit of the confusion over Harry's "immortality." I just love Ron / Hermione fluff… sigh**


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Ron and Hermione lay in Ron's bed sleeping until after midnight. Ron was the first to wake at the sound of his stomach giving him a giant growl. Ron looked out the window. Snow was still falling against a black backdrop. He could see the corner of the moon high in the sky. Ron shifted, removing his arm from underneath Hermione; it had fallen asleep. Hermione began to stir.

"Mmm, what time is it?"

"I didn't mean to wake you," Ron told her, his voice low enough to almost be a whisper.

"It's all right." Hermione opened her eyes. She found herself clutching the blankets closer around her body as the temperature in Ron's room had dropped significantly while she had been asleep. She was still lying facing Ron and she had to smile when he pushed all her hair away from her face.

"My stomach woke me up. I, uh, think we missed dinner."

Hermione nodded. "I think we did as well. I hadn't realized I was so tired. I suppose only sleeping for a couple of hours last night did the trick."

"Oh, and I didn't wear you out any?"

"You always wear me out."

Ron couldn't help but laugh. He yawned. He wanted to go back to sleep but his stomach gave another loud growl.

"Maybe you should sneak down to the kitchens."

"There's no curfew during holiday," Ron said. "I won't get in any trouble. I'll bring something back. What do you want?"

Hermione shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Just bring back some hot cocoa or something. It's _freezing_."

Ron nodded. "All right." He counted to three and then jumped out of his bed and raced to put on as many layers of clothing as he could. "I'm going to freeze my arse off!"

Hermione looked around the room. She spotted her jeans next to the bed and reached down for them. Her wand was in the back pocket and she waved it at Ron, spending a warming charm to his clothes. Ron smiled as his body stopped shivering.

"I'll be back quick as I can." Ron opened and shut the door behind him.

Hermione looked around his room. She used her wand to light the candles along his wall. Of course, she used magic to light the candles and they set off more light than if lit by a normal match. She used the same warming charm on the bed sheets and blankets. Not really keen on the idea of eating in Ron's room naked, Hermione reached down to the floor and picked up her knickers and Ron's jumper. She pulled both on, her knickers fitting perfectly while Ron's jumper could have swallowed her whole. It was long enough to be a dress and the sleeves went way past the ends of her hands. But, it was warm against her skin and smelled of him. She laid back down on the warmed bed and wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling close to Ron even though he was dashing through the freezing cold castle in search for food.

It seemed to have taken Ron no time at all to rush back to his room with a basket full of food. He placed it on his bed, kicked off his shoes, and sat down on top of the blankets.

"Are we going for a picnic?" Hermione asked teasingly.

"Is that my jumper?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"Oh, all right, then."

"Is it all right if I wear it?"

"I don't mind. Dobby just gave me this basket. He said it was filled with sandwiches and turkey and cheeses."

"Hot cocoa?"

Ron smiled. "Yes, there's hot cocoa. Do you think I would forget that?"

Hermione reached into the basket and pulled out a large dinner roll and some cheese. Ron handed her a napkin and she placed the food on it. He poured her a mug of hot cocoa as she ripped off a small piece of bread and threw it in her mouth.

"I didn't realize how famished I was," Hermione said after she swallowed.

"Me neither," Ron replied, not bothering to swallow himself.

Once Hermione had found Ron's habit of talking with his mouth full annoying and disgusting, but now she had grown so accustomed to _him_ that this habit no longer had any negative effect on her. Hermione tore off a piece of cheese and bit into it. She looked at her napkin and scrunched up her face just a little. Ron handed her a small piece of turkey. She looked at it and smiled. It was exactly what she had wanted.

Hermione filled herself up. Ron ate twice as much as her, no surprise, and instead of vanishing the rest of the food, decided to keep it in case he got hungry later. Ron was always hungry later. He sat the basket on the floor next to his bed. He took off his jeans – "they chaff me if I sleep in jeans" – and settled himself underneath the blankets. Hermione's warming charm had worn off but the room didn't seem as cold now that they were both donning clothes.

They wrapped themselves up in each other and fell asleep, their stomachs full.

* * *

The next morning Hermione quietly got dressed, leaving Ron to sleep. She pulled on her shoes and carefully opened and shut the door to his bedroom. She walked quickly down the staircase and out the portrait hole to McGonagall's office. She knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Hermione opened the door and slipped inside.

"Ah, Miss Granger, have a seat."

Hermione sat.

"Have you been able to guess why I asked you to stop by?"

"No, ma'am."

"Harry came to see me yesterday. Do you know why?"

Hermione shook her head.

"He overheard a conversation between you and Mr. Weasley during his stay at The Burrow regarding a matter of… immortality." Hermione blushed, but Professor McGonagall continued. "Now, I went to London last night to meet with some of the Order and a representative of the Department of Mysteries over this exact matter. I wanted to explain to _you_ so you wouldn't waste your time looking through the library. There are no books on the veil. It's extremely top secret and no one but the Department and, well, _us_ knows about it. It should remain a secret as well. Last night we all came to the conclusion that your book only said people get one death because no one has ever gotten two."

"So, when Harry dies, the book will have to be rewritten?"

McGonagall nodded. "I'm not sure if we will ever know whether or not Harry cannot die. I don't fancy sending the Killing Curse in his direction. However, if he cuts himself he will bleed. He is flesh and blood, skin and bone. I hope, Miss Granger, you will be able to help Harry think about things other than not dying? His problems with Voldemort are not yet over. No, there are still Death Eaters out there and until they are all brought down to justice and sent to Azkaban they pose a threat to us all. We're out of immediate danger but there is still grave importance on keeping the Order a secret."

"I understand fully, Professor."

"Please make sure Mr. Weasley understands as well?"

Hermione blushed. "Yes, Professor. May I ask you a question a bit off the subject?"

"Go ahead."

"Are you going to be the new Headmistress?"

McGonagall nodded.

"Are you still going to teach Transfiguration?"

"Until the end of the term, yes. This summer I will spend time looking for a new Transfiguration teacher. Why, are you interested in the position?" McGonagall asked, slightly amused at the thought.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't fancy being a teacher, I don't think. I'm on the path of working for St. Mungo's, with the NEWT classes I am taking but I'm still not sure if that's what I need to be doing."

"With all the subjects you are taking, Miss Granger, your options are still wide open if you change your mind."

"Are you going to move into Dumbledore's old office?"

McGonagall nodded. She swallowed hard and looked away from the seventh year's face. "Yes. Once all of Albus' things have been distributed as according to his final wishes I will take over that office and I'll have Filch place Albus' portrait highest of all." McGonagall smiled weakly and turned her gaze back to Hermione. "Now, is that all?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Don't discuss this meeting with Harry. He doesn't like it when he thinks he's being kept out of the loop. I just did not want you to waste time researching this topic. You won't find the answers to this equation in any library book, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Go on to breakfast."

"Good-bye." Hermione stood up and went to the door. She couldn't help but overhear a small sniffle escape from where McGonagall was sitting. And, if Hermione wasn't mistaken, a small tear gleamed in the morning sunlight in the corner of the old Professor's eye.

* * *

"For the _last _time – will you pass me the pumpkin juice?" Ginny demanded.

"Huh?"

"Harry, _please_. Have you heard a word I've said all morning?"

Harry nodded and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I have. My brain feels like it's on fire. I can barely concentrate on food."

Ginny reached over Harry and grabbed the pitcher of pumpkin juice. She filled her goblet, grumbling. She barely noticed Hermione entering the Great Hall and sitting across from her at the Gryffindor table. Hermione piled her plate with a bit of scrambled eggs and lots of fresh melon.

"All right there, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

Ginny clicked her tongue against her front teeth and set her goblet down on the table. "Well, Hermione, since you asked, I'll tell ya. This one over here"—she jabbed her thumb in the air towards Harry—"hasn't been able to hold his attention to hardly anything. Last night we were going to go to the kitchens when halfway there Harry started walking towards the library mumbling something about a book he wanted to read from the Restricted Section." Ginny rolled her eyes. "And, then, he sits down in the library with his book, reads a page and gets up to go back to the kitchen because he feels hungry and doesn't understand why."

Hermione nodded to show Ginny she was listening while she ate her melon.

"When I finally got him to bed I thought he was as worn out as I – oh my god, don't tell Ron I just said that." Ginny turned bright red.

"Believe me, I wouldn't dare invoke the wrath of a Ron scorned for _anything_."

"Thanks. Well, I kept waking up throughout the night because first he was drawing, then writing, then reading, and then, get this, I woke up to him doing sit ups on the floor and counting. He was up to four-hundred-thirty-six when I first heard him. He said he couldn't sleep. He said he'd finished the _entire_ book from the library, written all six of his Christmas essays, drawn a picture of me sleeping, and exercised so much that his pajamas became thoroughly soaked with sweat."

"When did he sleep?"

"He didn't. He doesn't. He never sleeps. The only thing that keeps his attention for more than fifteen minutes is sex. _I don't know what's wrong with him_. It's exhausting just watching him let alone trying to keep up with this insane new attention span… or lack thereof, really."

Hermione chewed her food slowly. She looked at Harry who had obviously not heard one bit of the conversation about him.

"We should ask Professor McGonagall," she said.

"Maybe. I don't know what to do. You'd think doing, like, a thousand sit ups would kill someone. It's like nothing can stop him…" Ginny felt her words catch in her throat and she blanched.

"But, McGonagall said she highly doubted Harry was immortal. She figured books would rewrite themselves about the number of deaths someone can have as soon as Harry dies again!"

Ginny shrugged. "But, she's not one-hundred percent sure is she? There is something seriously wrong with Harry. He's just like the old Harry only with his speed set on high. I don't know how he's going to start carrying on Quidditch practices again the way he is."

"You said he wrote all six of his holiday essays?"

Ginny nodded.

"Were they any good?"

"They were longer than required, I know that. They compete with yours, I daresay."

Hermione frowned. Harry was known for barely making the length requirement for his essays. Never had he written _more_ than was asked of him. She couldn't figure out why Harry was like this – what had the veil done to his mind?

Just then three owls came flying through the Great Hall. Two of them flew over the Ravenclaw table and the third dropped a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ in front of Hermione. She took it and unrolled it, skimming over the headlines on the front page. Her heart stopped. She handed the paper to Ginny without a word. Ginny read it and tugged on Harry's sleeve. He looked at the paper and in half the time it took Hermione to read the entire article he let out a whistle and shook his head in disbelief.

"How many more people have to die?" he asked. "I mean, Voldemort is dead. The war is over. Why are his ruddy followers still trying to keep it going?"

Hermione looked over at the entrance to the Great Hall as the door opened and a scruffy looking Ron came sauntering through. She had somehow know he was going to make his appearance at that exact moment. She couldn't help but smile to herself at the thought.

"All right everyone?" Ron asked as he plopped down next to Hermione and filled the plate in front of him with greasy breakfast meats and sugary pastries. He couldn't help but notice the sullen looking faces of his friends. "What?"

"There was an article in today's paper," Hermione started, "about a band of Death Eaters who invaded the Ministry of Magic, attacking their way through the levels. They started at one and stopped right before level nine."

"Isn't level nine…"

"The Department of Mysteries, yes," answered Ginny. "They killed two Ministry workers and injured a fair few more. Order members showed up right before they reached the ninth level. They were able to stop the Death Eaters."

"Although, the report said that the Death Eaters claimed there would be more attacks like this on Muggles, Mudbloods, and any one who threatens the memory of Voldemort," Hermione finished.

Ron looked at Harry who seemed, for once, interested in the conversation before him. "Do you think they wanted to get to the Department of Mysteries?"

"The Death Eaters know that Harry is alive. They know he went through the veil."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "They might be trying to get Voldemort back as well."

"Oh, sure," Ron mused, "Harry comes back, then Voldemort comes back, and we'll one day turn around and everyone who was once dead is walking around talking to us!"

"I don't think it would work like that," Hermione said. "I think it would only apply to those who went through the veil. That's just my guess, though."

"It's probably right," Harry said. "Is it still snowing? I want to go for a walk around the lake – or maybe a run – or maybe a fly. Do you want to go flying, Gin?"

Hermione looked at Ginny sympathetically. Ginny rubbed her eyes but got up and left the Great Hall with Harry. After they left Ron scooted himself closer to Hermione. He reached over and picked up her hand from where it sat in her lap and kissed her palm. Only after giving it a slight squeeze did he release her hand.

"What was that for?"

Ron shrugged. "Do I need a reason?"

Hermione shook her head. "No."

"It'll be hard going back to not sleeping with you every night."

Hermione blushed.

"Of course, just say the word and you can move right into my room. I promise I won't resist."

"Ron, you know I can't do that."

Ron shrugged. "Did the report say who got injured?" he asked, changing the subject and shoving the last piece of bacon in his mouth.

"No. Why? Oh, Ron, you don't think your dad…"

"No, I reckon Mum would have owled us if anything had happened to him, but other Order members… I mean, Lupin would have been an easy target. He just got out of St. Mungo's – it would be easy to hurt him."

"I doubt Tonks would have let him go if he was still weak."

Ron sniggered. "Right."

"I'm serious. Tonks is protective over him. It's near a full moon. She'd want him to stay healthy. The moons take a lot out of him… I don't know how he does it, really."

"Ah, look, there's Luna. I didn't know she was staying here over holiday. Are she and Neville together yet?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. _Finally_."

"Thought so."

"Oh, you did, did you?"

"Well, she finally stopped singing that ridiculous song around me."

"What song?" asked Hermione.

"Weasley is Our King."

Hermione smiled. "I remember that. Weasley is _my_ king."

Ron blushed. "Am I?"

Hermione almost blushed herself, having just realized what she said. "I suppose."

Ron leaned over and kissed her. "What are we going to do today?"

Hermione shrugged. "I can think of a few things…"

"Right, then, let's go."

"Go?"

"Back to my room." Ron winked mischievously.

* * *

Ginny bent over, her hands resting on her knees. Her breaths came in giant heaves as she wasn't used to sprinting full speed around the Hogwarts lake. Glaring at Harry, she began to grow angry that her boyfriend had all this new and relentless energy.

Harry, realizing Ginny was no longer running behind him, turned and saw her a few yards back breathing heavily. He strolled back to her.

"All right?" he asked.

Looking up at his foolish grinning Ginny couldn't help but be angry. "No, I'm not _all right_," she snapped. "Why can't you get tired like a normal person?"

Harry's face fell. He bent down on his knees to look at Ginny. "I guess I haven't been the same since…"

"No, you haven't."

"I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like there's a hole in me that needs to be filled. Not much has been working… it makes me feel empty."

"I'm so sorry. I should never have tried to bring you back." Tears began to well up in Ginny's eyes; Harry noticed.

"No, I'm glad I'm back." Harry shook his head at his next thought. "Your _passion_ brought me back. I didn't know anyone could want me so much."

Ginny blushed.

"It's all right. I just always thought how much I lusted after you was embarrassing." A sly smile crossed Harry's face. "Apparently it's nothing compared to your lust." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Harry!"

Pulling her to him, Harry let out a slight growl in the back of his throat. He rested his forehead against her stomach while his hands ran over the back of her thighs, stopping to squeeze her bum and push her further towards him. Her cloak was rough against his forehead so Harry pushed it away. He lifted up her jumper and shirts underneath to expose the flat flesh of her stomach. Ginny moaned as Harry's mouth connected with her skin.

"Not out here…" Ginny whispered.

"No one can see."

"There's snow." Ginny closed her eyes as Harry's hands left her backside and traveled up her sides until they found their way to her bra and pushed it up, rubbing them. "And it's cold."

Harry pulled himself away and reached up to undo the clasp of Ginny's cloak. Laying it down on the snow he cast several spells on it – one to keep it from getting wet, one to warm it up, and one to make it softer. Harry tugged at her. Ginny relented and laid down on the cloak. She could see the fire in Harry's eyes as he turned and hovered over her. He caressed her cheek with the back of her hand. Desire shot through her and she wanted to feel Harry in her.

As Ginny began to snake her hands down into his trousers, Harry pulled her hands back and shook his head.

"It's not always about shagging," he said, kissing her neck hotly. "Right now is all about you. Let me use all this bloody energy for some good."

Ginny's answer was a moan as Harry's hand found its way to the button of her jeans. Undoing it, his hand then unzipped the jeans and pulled them down over her hips. He didn't want to pull them all the way off since it was the middle of winter and right cold outside. Instead, Harry pushed his hand inside her damped knickers and stroked her – lightly, in small brushes against her slick skin, teasing her.

"_Harry_," Ginny whispered passionately.

Not being able to help him, Harry began to smile cockily. He bent his head down to capture her lips in a kiss. His tongue ran over her closed lips, begging entrance into her mouth. Ginny opened up her lips and accepted him, playing with his tongue with her own.

Harry's hand picked up speed and intensity. His thumb swirled circles around her while his ring and middle fingers slipped inside of her. Ginny pushed her hips on, clearly wanting more from him. Harry slowed his hands and moved his mouth from her lips to her neck.

"If you stop," Ginny whispered dangerously into his ear, "I will never shag you again."

Harry took his lips away from her skin long enough to snigger. His hands picked up speed again and he kept touching her, sliding in and out, until the tears that had welled up in her eyes fell out, until her body shuddered almost violently, until she cried out in a giant satisfied moan – that's when Harry finally stopped.

* * *

Hermione resisted Ron. She wanted to make sure she could still maintain control when she was alone with him. Not wishing to lose herself and shag Ron wildly – as she seemed on the brink of doing lately – she talked him into teaching her strategic moves in Wizard's Chess in hopes of sharking Harry into losing some Chocolate Frogs in a game against her.

"I still don't understand why we're playing Chess when we're alone in my room with all our homework done and no patrols to do."

Hermione smiled inwardly. Ron wouldn't understand. That was all right. "My it's hot in here," she said. Ron stared at her chest moving up and down with her breaths and she took off her jumper, exposing a tight, almost-too-small, t-shirt underneath. Noticing his distraction, she moved her knight.

"Tsk, tsk." Ron captured her knight with his Bishop. His eyes fell back onto her chest – it just looked extra round and supple that day.

"Drats," Hermione murmured. "Who taught you to play this well?" She moved her Bishop with her left hand, using her right hand to play with her bottom lip.

"You mean, who taught me to be such a right genius at Wizard's Chess and to play it so dashingly?" Ron asked, his eyes transfixed on her mouth.

"Mm, something like that."

Ron shrugged and looked back to the board, moving his Rook. "I used to watch Bill and Charlie play sometimes. Maybe I'm not such a thick git after all?"

Hermione smiled. "Ah, you're not as thick as you think you are. Well, perhaps when it comes to girls you are."

"I'm rubbish when it comes to girls."

"Well, you're lovely when it comes to me most of the time. When you're not being insensitive and end up throwing rocks at my door." Leaning over and showing the slightest hint of cleavage, Hermione moved her Queen.

"But, I've more than made up for that night. I distinctly remember taking care of you all night when you were a right wreck after McGonagall told you about your parents."

Hermione nodded. She looked back at the chess board and breathed in deeply. "You were perfect."

Ron moved his Knight, swallowing hard against a blush that was threatening to creep up the back of her neck.

Hermione moved her Queen. "Checkmate."

Ron gaped. "_What_?"

Hermione began to laugh. She kept laughing at the astonished look on Ron's face. She smiled at him. "Checkmate," she said again.

"No." Ron looked at the board, moving all of his pieces in his head to try and protect the king, realizing it was futile. His eyes flickered back to Hermione. "You did that on purpose."

"Did what on purpose?"

"Took off your sweater, showed me your chest, played with her mouth. You distracted me!"

Hermione shrugged. "Strategy?" she suggested.

"You can _not_ use _that_ strategy against Harry. Chocolate Frogs are not worth that much to me."

Hermione smiled. "Tsk, tsk, Ron. And you thought you were such a right genius and a dashing good chess player."

"You're infuriating."

"You love it!"

Ron hated to admit it, but Hermione was right.

* * *

Harry and Ginny laid on their backs, watching the clouds pass by overhead. Ginny's jeans were back to being buttoned, and Harry's fingers were threaded through hers. Every so often one of them would let out a content sigh.

Although he was trying to control himself and stay focused on not jumping around doing a hundred things at once, Harry couldn't help the way he fidgeted. Ginny noticed it as well, knowing Harry was using up all his energy trying to stay calm and as not hyper as possible.

"_Fuck_," Harry cried out, shooting up, his hands pressed tightly against his forehead.

Ginny quickly sat up as well. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"My scar," he gasped out. "It hurts."

"How can it hurt?"

Harry shook his head against the pain, his eyes shut tightly, and began to rock himself back and forth. "It's never been this bad before."

"How can it hurt?" repeated Ginny. "Voldemort's gone."

"No," Harry gasped out again, "he's not."

* * *

To Be Continued…

A/N: Sorry that took so long to update. I wanted to make sure I got a chapter up before did their maintenance and I could no longer log in.

So close to 200 reviews… so… REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!! :)


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Later that night Hermione fell asleep still wearing her jeans and t-shirt in Ron's room. Not the least bit tired Ron quietly left his room and walked down the stairs to the seventh year boys' dorm, the stone stairs cold against his bare feet. His hand on the doorknob, Ron stopped mid-turn. It was the unmistakable sound of a girl's laughter. Ron frowned.

_Damn it_, he thought. He'd hoped Harry would play him in a game of Chess – to give him something to do until he was tired enough to fall asleep.

Feeling a bit defeated, Ron slowly returned to his room. He sat at his desk and looked upon the sleeping figure on his bed. She was so beautiful. Her hair was gathered up in a loop at the back of her head, curls falling out of it – her lips were parted, breathing in the air that caused her chest to slowly rise and fall – her hands curled around a paperback book she told Ron was about wizards and dwarves and things she once thought fake but later learnt were real.

Ron couldn't help but feel a surge of electricity pump through his chest as she stared at his girl. He tried to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. Having felt a gaze on her, Hermione stirred in her sleep and yawned, stretching her arms out. Ron got up from his desk and laid down next to her, brushing her cheek with his hand.

"I didn't mean to wake you up."

Hermione looked up at him and smiled. She turned over on her other side to face Ron. Snuggling against him, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep letting the warmth of his body keep her warm while she slept.

* * *

The new term began quite normally. Snow covered the grounds until the end of January. Hermione read through the _Daily Prophet_ every morning at breakfast, updating her friends on the Death Eaters' attacks which had frequented themselves to once a week. Order members and their families all went into hiding and safe houses as they seemed to be the most likely targets. The threats of the Death Eaters were simple enough to understand – they wanted anyone who helped aid in the destruction of Voldemort to suffer and die.

Harry made Ginny promise that she wouldn't utter a word about Voldemort being back to either Ron or Hermione. His scar always hurt the eve of an attack and he'd pound on the door to McGonagall's quarters to tell her. However, since Harry wasn't having actual visions, there was little anyone could do to protect the next targets of the Death Eaters' attacks.

What Hermione, and even Ron when he wasn't focusing his attention entirely on his girlfriend, noticed was that Harry was still restless, not sleeping, and increasingly grouchy.

"Attack in Bristol," Hermione told them at breakfast the last week in January, closing the newspaper.

"Why do you always feel the need to tell us where people are being murdered this week?" Harry snapped.

"It's important to keep up with the Death Eaters' activity."

"Why? It's not as if we're doing anything to help. We're sitting here going to class while people are dying out there somewhere."

"Fine, I'll read the newspaper to myself, then," Hermione said calmly, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Don't placate me," Harry lashed. He looked away from Hermione and began to rub his temples. "I'm sorry. It's just… I tried to sacrifice myself for Ginny – and, er, Ron – just like it said in the book with that whole proven love shit. It was just bullocks. Hey, did you finish your Transfiguration essay?"

Still not having gotten used to Harry's new random speech pattern, Ron was a bit speechless. He had long since given up on telling Harry off for snapping at Hermione and could only hope that his best mate was nicer to his sister.

"I finished it a week ago," answered Hermione.

"I still have the conclusion to write," Ron said.

"I'm not in the class," Ginny retorted.

"I forgot my books for Double Potions," Harry said, standing up changing the subject as per usual. "See you in the dungeons." He left the Great Hall at a run, his black work robes flowing behind him.

Ginny groaned and banged her head against the table. "I can't take it."

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, concerned.

"It's all his blasted energy," Ginny answered, lifting her head from the table. "I can barely have a conversation with him. And…"

"And?"

Ginny glanced at her brother and blushed. "Nothing."

Ron's face also turned red but not from embarrassment. "Harry's treating you right, isn't he? I'll murder him if he's not."

"No, Harry's fine… He treats me… He treats me brilliantly, actually. Never-mind. I need to get to Herbology anyway. I didn't do so well on the last essay and I wanted to speak with Professor Sprout about it before class starts."

Ron watched his little sister leave with a frown on his face. He turned to Hermione sitting next to him. "Is she all right?"

"She said she was, didn't she?"

"No, actually, she didn't. I know you two talk. And I _know_ you two talk about me and Harry."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Ohh? And how do you know that?"

"I'm not _that_ thick."

"Do you and Harry talk about Ginny and me?"

Ron shifted in his seat. "Er, well, you see…"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to talk about this."

Hermione frowned. "Why not?"

The red colour on Ron's cheeks deepened.

"Ronald!" Hermione lowered her voice. "Is it going to make me angry?"

"Er…"

"_Ronald._"

"Harry and I don't sit around together and chat about what our girlfriends are like behind closed doors, so to speak… But, uh, guys say stuff."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You go to visit Harry in the seventh years' room and you lot sit around and discuss sex and your girlfriends."

"Well… no. Yes. The rest of them talk – Seamus, Dean, and even Neville. There's a couple of sixth years they hang out with them now like Colin and his friends; they join in as well. Harry doesn't really say much. I'm sure he tells them all kinds of stuff when I'm not around because they avoid asking him questions about Ginny if I'm there. Thank _god_. But, I don't talk! They ask me questions sometimes – Seamus especially. The whole lot of them know we haven't shagged, though."

"Oh, just waiting to spill the details, then, are you?" Hermione demanded.

"No, it's not like that at all. They ask me if I've bonked you yet and even if I had I'd probably say no."

"_Probably_?!"

"I don't want to listen to a guy like Seamus bad mouth my girlfriend."

"I find that hard to believe." Hermione began to turn red herself. "Do they know the other stuff… what we've… what I've…"

Ron clenched his jaw and avoided Hermione's eyes. That was all the confirmation she needed. Gathering up her books she walked out of the Great Hall and went straight to the Dungeons. Ron groaned and slowly got together his books and followed her trail.

Once inside Dungeon Four Hermione sat down next to Harry, much to his surprise.

"Row?" he asked simply.

Hermione shot Harry a nasty look. "You both should be ashamed of yourselves."

"What did _I _do?" Harry asked sharply, not amused by Hermione's bad mood or the apparent row she had with Ron.

"Nothing," grumbled Hermione, opening up her Potions book and taking out a piece of parchment and a quill, readying herself to write down all the ingredients to that day's potion assignment.

Ron entered Dungeon Four and sighed deeply as he noticed his girlfriend sitting next to his best mate. He sat down as far away from them as possible, hoping that Neville or Dean would take the seat next to him and not leave him with a random Slytherin to brew a potion with. Neville took a seat next to Ron, noting that Hermione was sitting with Harry.

Once class began Snape waved his wand across the blackboard and words popped up. Hermione quickly wrote down the ingredients and preparation steps to the Hair Restoration Draught and began to drop the needed components into her and Harry's cauldron. She grumbled random bits of sentences as she worked.

"I think I like you best when you and Ron are snogging."

Hermione's head snapped up and she looked at Harry through narrowed eyes.

He nodded, emphasizing his point. "That way I don't have to hear either of you bicker."

Hermione snorted back a laugh and dropped a unicorn hoof clipping into the cauldron. Towards the end of class the cauldron in front of her was boiling a nice shade of red. One glance towards Ron and Neville told Hermione that neither of them had paid attention to the steps written on the board; their potion looked almost purple instead of a deep red like hers. She quickly returned her eyes to the cauldron in front of her. Filling up the small bottle with the potion, Harry wrote his and Hermione's name on the glass and sat it on Snape's desk to be graded.

Avoiding speaking to Ron for the rest of the day was difficult but proved to be even worse when Hermione realized she and Ron had patrols to do together that night. How dare he talk about their physical relationship to the other Gryffindor boys! He'd even admitted he not only told prats like Seamus and Dean but sixth years as well! Not even Ginny knew about the things she and Ron did. Hermione felt like crying at the thought of Ron telling anyone what her mouth on him felt like.

After dinner she tucked herself into the corner of the couch in the Common Room with her Arithmancy book. Crookshanks mewed by her feet. Ron came clambering through the portrait hole dirty and sweaty, breathing heavily. Hermione only glanced up for a second before she buried her face back into her book. The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team came trailing after Ron, equally as dirty and sweaty despite the cold weather.

Ron saw Hermione sitting on the couch and he crossed the room. Crouching down on his knees in front of her he opened his mouth to speak but Hermione raised her book higher in front of her face.

"Is that how it's gonna be?" Ron asked bitterly. "I was actually going to apologize but now you can bloody well stuff it if you're going to continue to ignore me."

Hermione lowered her book. "Excuse me?"

"You are so hot tempered."

"_Me_?"

"Yes, _you_. I'm sick of this stupid row and having you sit with Harry all during classes. You completely jumped to conclusions. You have no idea what boys even talk about in the dorms when birds aren't around. You have no idea what _I _say. Maybe this time _you_ should be apologizing to _me_."

Hermione felt the heat rise in her body in anger and disgust. Ron got up from where he crouched and walked briskly up the stairs to go take a shower before patrols. She let out a breath as she watched him walk away.

"Well, well," Seamus said, sitting down on the couch. "Trouble with the Head Couple?"

"Sod off, Finnigan," Hermione snapped.

"Wow. You sound just like Weasley when you say that. I hope this row won't end things?"

"End things between Ron and me? Hardly. Why? Looking for a new shag now that you no longer have Lavender?"

Seamus didn't even flinch, much to Hermione's disappointment. He shook his head instead. "No, I'm done with random flings."

"Well, then, why are you interrupting my studying?"

Seamus smirked. "Well, I overheard your row – the whole common room did. And I came to discuss it. You're mad at Ron for talking about you with _the boys_ in the dorms?" When Hermione didn't answer Seamus took it as a sign that he was right. "Well, a bunch of get together when it's late and none of us can sleep to play Wizard's Poker and gamble with Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pasties and the like. We're _guys_. We're stupid blokes – randy blokes – and we can't help but talk about birds."

"You're worse than the rest of them, I'm sure."

"You'd be surprised at what you can get Neville to admit to with a little baiting and firewhiskey."

"Seamus Finnigan! You wouldn't!"

"I would. Hear me out before you start trying to hand me detentions with Snape."

"Fine, go on."

Seamus cleared his throat. "The only reason we know anything about yours and Ron's sordid affairs is because we ask him and he turns bright red whenever we hit on something you two've done. Bit of a shock when he turned red and refused to finish the game when we asked if he'd even given you the between the legs."

"The what?"

"Well, he actually said no when I asked if he'd given you the ol' how's your father so I know you haven't shagged. But, his face got rather red when Colin asked how you tasted." Seamus' eyes flickered down past Hermione's waist before returning to her face.

Hermione was silent.

"Don't you want to know what he said?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Oh, fine, spill it."

"He turned bright red and said he'd never offer up details of anything sexual with you. And when we asked why he gave us the ol' 'I love her' bit. Rotten shame if you ask me – wasting love on _Ronald_. Although…" Seamus' gaze shifted to Hermione's mouth. "Ron _did_ let it slip that everything you do is bloody fantastic. So, if you ever _do_ end things, let me know."

Hermione looked away from Seamus and back to her book. "Thanks, Seamus for the offer, but a bit of bickering won't keep Ron and I a

part for too long."

Knowing he had been defeated, Seamus got up and began to walk away when he stopped.

"I was really only telling you because I know what it feels like to have your girlfriend mad at you over something she doesn't understand. Although, when it happened to me, I was dumped for _my_ best mate and I don't fancy seeing Ron's reaction if you were to run off with Potter."

"Harry has Ginny."

Seamus sniggered. "Oh, he _more_ than has Ginny. But, I'm not letting that bit of info slip out of my mouth. I've already done enough damage telling you about Ron. The boys'll kill me if they know I was telling all their bloody secrets." Seamus laughed to himself. "A bunch of girls we are about that."

* * *

Ron appeared back in the Common Room just in time for patrols. They did them in silence, neither of them sure what to say. The right words ran through Hermione's head but she knew the moment she opened her mouth she'd jumble everything up. It wasn't often that she had to admit to Ron she was wrong. She wasn't sure the last time she'd even done it. Had she ever done it?

Back in the Common Room Ron avoided saying good night and ran up the stairs to his room. Hermione sighed and followed him, knocking on his door when she reached the top of the stairs.

Opening the door, Ron tried to look surprised, even though he knew Hermione was going to be on the other side.

"Seamus told me you never told any of the boys details about us… except that you loved me."

Ron leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Why didn't you tell me you didn't say anything to them when I asked?"

"Because I felt like a dirty prat 'cause I didn't _deny_ any of it. I just told the lot of them it was none of their bloody business."

"And that you loved me."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, that as well, I suppose."

"You've only said it to me about five times. I'm surprised you said it to anyone else."

"You _know_ why I don't say it more often." Ron shifted his weight against the doorframe. "I don't want those words to lose their magic. You become completely different when you hear them."

"Oh, I do not."

"You do so! You completely melt."

Hermione scowled. "I do _not_ melt."

"Whatever. You don't melt. I don't care. I'm tired of rowing."

"Me, too."

"Next time you ask me something I'll be completely truthful so you don't go stomping out of the Great Hall and avoid speaking to me. I'd rather have you tell at me than completely ignore me. It drives me mad."

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry. No more jumping to conclusions."

"Good. And just so that we don't have any secrets, I did sort of say that whatever we _did_ do you were bloody brilliant at it."

"Brilliant? Seamus told me you said I was 'bloody fantastic.'"

"I'm going to kill Seamus come tomorrow."

"Oh, don't. If it wasn't for him I'd still be angry with you. Do you have any more secrets to tell me?"

Ron shook his head. "No. I don't think so anyway. Why, do you have secrets?"

"None at all? I'm sure there's _something_ you can tell me that I don't know about."

"Nothing that's not insanely embarrassing and would be sinful to even say aloud."

Hermione stepped through the doorway into Ron's room and sat down on his bed. "Tell me!" she said eagerly.

Ron closed the door and walked over and sat down next to her, his hands in his lap, his gaze fixed on the stone floor and the pile of dirty laundry in the corner.

"Well?"

Ron blushed. "I always get myself into these messes. I open my mouth and I don't mean to say what pops out."

"Tell me what's so sinful if muttered aloud."

Ron sighed. "All right, then. You don't allow yourself to spend the night in my room during the week nights and even on the weekends we don't always do… stuff… so, you know… when I… by myself… later… or whatever… think of you."

"What?"

Ron turned bright red and covered his face with his hands.

"You do what yourself?"

"Gerroff."

"Huh?"

"Get. Off," Ron said slowly, refusing to look at Hermione. "Thinking of you."

Hermione was glad Ron wasn't looking at her because she was turning a nice shade of red herself. "Oh."

"Do you think of me?"

"I don't, you know, to myself."

Ron looked at her. "Ever? I thought everyone did that."

"Boys do. Lavender does – I shared a room with her for six years and she doesn't keep _anything _a secret. But, Parvati never admitted to it and I certainly don't do it."

"Why not?" Ron asked, confused. "What the bloody hell did you do with all your pent up energy for seventeen years?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not seventeen years, silly! Besides, now I have you to do it for me."

"Well, damn, if I had known you never do it I'd be making sure I was helping you out more with that."

"It's not a big deal," Hermione said. "I have self control. If I didn't I'm sure I'd be banging down your door every night wanting you to…" Her voice trailed off.

"But, why not?"

"What do you mean 'why not?'"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. If the urge hits me, I relieve myself. I can't believe you don't. So half my fantasies of you are totally fake. Blimey, that sucks."

"What do you mean half your fantasies are fake?!"

Ron snorted out a laugh. "You _do_ realize that one of the sexiest things for a bloke to imagine is a girl touching herself?"

Hermione didn't respond.

"_Anyway_. Do you have any secrets? You didn't answer me the first time I asked."

"Only one."

"Well, what is it?"

Hermione smiled. She leaned over and whispered into Ron's ear something that made his heart jump and fly right out of his chest. Ron blinked a couple of times, letting what his girlfriend just said sink in fully.

"Since when?"

"Since we got back from holiday."

Ron scratched the back of his neck. "Did you steal it from the hospital wing?"

"No, I took the book from the library and brewed it myself. The ingredients are available in the student supply cabinet in the dungeons. The ones I couldn't find there were given to me by Madam Pomfrey."

"You brewed your own batch of Contraceptive Draught and have been taking it for a month?"

Hermione nodded. "The book said it only took three doses to take full effect… but, I've been taking one dose a day – the recommended amount – since the day before classes began."

"Why did you wait to tell me?"

"I don't rightly know. You were so timid about it all over the break I didn't want to feel like this was my way of pushing you into it. We still don't have to, if you don't want to, especially if you don't feel that I'm the one you want to do this with for the rest of your life – since you said you only want one lover."

Ron rubbed his hands over his face and took in a deep breath. "Wow."

"I'm telling you that I'm taking the Draught so that when we both decide the right time to have… make love, nothing will have to hold us back. Unless," Hermione added quickly, "you don't want to."

Ron shook his head. "No, no, I want to. I can certainly be content with you being my one, er, lover for the rest of my life."

Hermione smiled. "Yeah?"

"Definitely."

"I wasn't sure."

"You are right mental sometimes. You know I'm crazy about you."

"I know."

Ron brushed Hermione's hair away from her shoulders and bent over to kiss her neck. Letting out a contented sigh Hermione lifted Ron's hand to her mouth to kiss it.

"Fuck," Ron said, pulling back.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

"I forgot I have to finish the conclusion on my Transfiguration essay before tomorrow. It's our first class in the morning."

"Oh."

Ron looked at Hermione and smiled. "I think, though, that when we do this it shouldn't be after a conversation like the one we just had. We'll do it soon. Have sex – er, make love, or whatever you called it. And we'll do it right and when we're not rushed by pending essays."

"Do you realize that you've begun to use words like me?"

"What are you on about?"

"Like 'pending.' You never would have said a word like that before we started snogging one another."

"I suppose you've rubbed off on me."

"I told Seamus to sod off tonight. He said I sounded just like you."

Ron beamed. "I'm so proud of you! I can't believe you cursed. That's awesome. If you wait until I write my conclusion real fast we can have a nice snog."

"All right, then."

"Really?" Ron said, surprised Hermione agreed.

"Sure. I'll go take a bath. I've been dying to try out the new bubbles that were just installed in the prefect bathroom. I'll come back later."

Ron nodded. "All right. Until then…" He leaned over and kissed her softly on the mouth. As he watched her leave and close the door behind her he flopped back on his bed and stared at the ceiling, still hardly believing that Hermione – beautiful, brilliant Hermione – was taking doses of a Contraceptive Draught so she could shag _him_, Ron. It was really quite beyond his belief.

* * *

"All right, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said sternly, handing him a large potion bottle, "this is a Dreamless Sleep Draught. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape have come up with what they hope is a powerful enough potion to make you sleep. I know the last three tries didn't work, but I hope this one will cause you to finally sleep."

"But, Professor, I feel all right. Is this really necessary?" Harry shifted in the chair across from McGonagall's desk.

"You haven't been sleeping, have you?"

"Well… no."

"Did that ever strike you as a bit odd? Everyone needs sleep, Potter, even you. Now, take two sips of this in your dorm and see if you don't fall asleep."

Harry looked at the bottle in his hands. "All right, Professor." Harry paused. "Professor? Why can't I sleep? Why can't I concentrate on anything for more than ten seconds?"

"One of the unanswered questions of death, I'd say. You've done everything you're suppose to do in life, Potter. You were born, you lived, you loved, you died. Now that you're back you're searching for something else that you missed your first time."

Harry thought it over. "Well, before my purpose was to kill Voldemort."

"Yes. Now that you've done that you must find your new purpose."

Harry shook his head. "No, Voldemort's back. That's why my scar's been hurting. It's not just the attacks. It's _him_. I didn't feel anything the first attack on the Ministry. After that I began to feel each attack as you already know. It's because he's back."

"He's made no sign, Potter, that he's back. He has not sent you any visions or given a single clue that he's gone. Perhaps your scar burns because of the evil doings of his followers."

Harry shook his head. "You're wrong, Professor." He cleared his throat. "Thanks for the sleeping potion. I'll use it as soon as I get back to the Tower." Harry stood up and walked to the door.

"Please, don't stop coming to me when your scar hurts. Just because I'm skeptical over whether or not a Death Eater was able to extract Voldemort from the veil as Ginny did with you doesn't mean I have any less faith in you. I believe that you believe it and I will bring the matter up the next time I go to a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix."

"Thanks," Harry said again, this time more genuine. He opened the door to McGonagall's office and exited, walking quickly to the moving staircase and making his way up to Gryffindor Tower. He didn't want to sleep but he knew better than to defy the new Headmistress. Sitting down on his bed, Harry took two sips of the potion and immediately everything faded into black.

* * *

To Be Continued…

A/N: For anyone who thinks there is too much Ron / Hermione fluff – I'm sorry. They're my favorite pairing and the one I like to focus on most. It would be a bit odd to add in too much detail about any other ships ('cept perhaps Harry / Ginny) because they're not main characters in the story, not even close.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

February rolled in with a new Quidditch match – Ravenclaw versus Slytherin. Harry waited by the pitch for Professor Lupin, wringing his hands together to keep them warm as he had forgotten his gloves in his trunk. Ginny waited with him and, after much debating, convinced Ron and Hermione to save them two seats in the stands.

"Ah, Professor Lupin!" Harry called out.

Remus spotted the younger version of James waving his hand in the air. He departed from the group of teachers he was walking with and made his way over to Harry and Ginny.

"Problem?"

Harry shrugged. "I wanted to ask your advice on something."

"You could've come by my office instead of asking me in the cold."

"Well, Tonks is visiting, yeah? I didn't want to… disturb you."

Lupin blushed. "What do you need advice on?"

"McGonagall gave me a Dreamless Sleep Draught so I'll sleep."

"I heard Severus and Poppy had to brew stronger batches four times before you actually fell asleep."

Harry nodded. "Yes. The thing is, Remus – er, Professor Lupin, sorry – is that I've been taking it for six days, mainly so McGonagall will stay off my back about it, but I'm still as restless and have just as much energy as ever—"

"More energy," Ginny murmured.

Lupin raised his eyebrows at the youngest Weasley. "Is that so?"

"I want to stop taking the potion but I'm afraid that if I do… There's been two Death Eater attacks this week and usually when there's an attack my scar starts to burn but it hasn't hurt once in the past six days and I think it's because I've been sleeping through it."

"Is that why you want to stop taking the potion? So you'll know when there will be an attack?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Basically."

The scarred professor took in a deep breath and looked off towards the pitch. "Minerva tells me you believe You-Know-Who is back."

"Yes," Harry said – it came out as whisper.

"So do I. You're going to have to fight him again, I daresay. Dumbledore…" Lupin's voice faltered. "Dumbledore believed love was the key to Voldemort's destruction. This time around – this _final_ time around – has to hit him hard. I don't know how, but I know it has something to do with that love sacrifice. Dumbledore had full faith in it."

"But, I thought I'd done it once already and now he's _back_."

"No. It wasn't enough. You'll understand when the time comes. Look, Madam Hooch is calling the beginning of the match. Shall we go, then?"

* * *

"Slytherin are a bunch of cheating gits!" Ron cried out at lunch. He was too busy ranting to eat his turkey sandwich. "Malfoy practically mauled the new Ravenclaw seeker – broke the poor bloke's broom! If we have to play them for the Cup I'll—"

"Ron, do shut it and eat your lunch," Hermione said. Patting his leg, she smiled up at him. He just scowled back.

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked Ginny.

"Huh? Ohh. He and Professor Lupin are having lunch in his office with Tonks." Ginny shrugged. "I'm tired of hearing about Harry's bloody sleep patterns so I decided to come here instead. I need a bit of nosh before heading to the library to start my Defense essay. Lupin's really coming down hard on us this year." Ginny pushed back her plate. "Hermione, will you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"I reckon I'm just being a silly girl but will you remind Harry of Valentine's Day?"

Ron nearly choked on his sandwich. Hermione handed him his goblet of pumpkin juice before rolling her eyes.

"You wouldn't choke if you didn't stuff so much food in your mouth." Turning back to Ginny, Hermione smiled. "Of course I'll make sure he knows. Do you think he'd forget or something?"

"Well, he's so scatter brained lately that, yes, I think he might forget. I don't need an expensive present but as long as he just recognizes that it's Valentine's Day, you know? Besides, last year he avoided the mere topic of Valentine's Day because of fifth year."

Ron sniggered. "Well, it's all Cho's fault."

Hermione restrained herself from rolling her eyes again with obvious difficulty. "Do you want me to give Harry any ideas for a present?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, I reckon I'd rather be fully surprised. There's less than two weeks until the day after all. _Unfortunately_, I'm poor and have no money so I suppose I'll have to grovel in front of Fred and George for some. Well, I'm off to the library." With that, Ginny got up from the Gryffindor table and walked out of the Great Hall.

Ron glanced at Hermione. "Er…"

"Yes?"

"You're not buying me anything are you?"

"I hadn't thought about it yet. There's Hogsmeade next Saturday and then Valentine's Day is just a few days after that. I don't _have_ to get you something if you don't want to exchange gifts."

Ron thought a moment. There was one thing he was certain of and that was girls were dangerously hard to figure out. Part of his brain told him that if Hermione cared about presents she would not offer him an out of buying her something. The other part of his brain told him that Hermione knew being poor was a sore subject with him and she wouldn't want him to waste any money he didn't have. He didn't want to give Hermione the wrong answer and start another row. He'd have to choose his words carefully.

"Er…"

This time Hermione's restraint lacked and her eyes rolled up towards the ceiling. "Honestly, Ron, I don't _care_. I think Valentine's Day is a little trite anyway."

"Trite?"

"It means—"

"I _know_ what it means!" Ron snapped. "I'm just surprised to hear you say that."

"Why?"

Ron shrugged. "'Cause you're a girl. Girls like that mushy stuff like Madam Puddi-what's-her-foot's with roses and cherubs."

"Romance is only interesting if it's original. Cho wanted Harry to take her to that awful coffee shop because only couples go there and it was decorated and themed for love. I find that sort of thing to be boring and, well, trite. It's unoriginal. Anyone can buy someone a cup of coffee and have a cherub play the harp over their heads. It's the unexpected stuff, the things that the other person has to really think about and come up with that make romance special. Cho was entirely unoriginal and dull. For someone so pretty she wouldn't know romance if it bent down on one knee in front of her."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, of course! Her conversations with Harry were always about other boys who had asked her out and all the boys she dated were excellent looking. She just has no depth."

Ron frowned. "So, you think Harry is excellent looking?"

Hermione sighed. "Ron… I'm going to row over whether or not I think Harry is attractive."

"That means you do. And, wait a minute! _You're_ not unoriginal and dull so does that mean I'm _not_ excellent looking?"

"Don't be so thick."

"Well?"

Hermione scratched her head. "Ron, you are twisting my words about. I'm not taking a bloody Contraceptive Draught because you're excellent looking – I'm taking it because of who you are. Besides, I think you're adorable."

Ron's ears turned bright red. "Adorable?"

"Yes." Hermione kissed his cheek. "Now, did you want me to look over your History of Magic essay today or not?"

"I do."

"Well, hurry up with your lunch so you can go fetch it for me. I have to finish my own Astronomy homework before patrols tonight."

* * *

Harry, Professor Lupin, and Tonks were working on a Tracking Spell to see if they couldn't locate Voldemort. Tonks was extremely worried – more so than either Harry or Remus.

"Without Dumbledore here I'm afraid he'll come to the castle. Last time he sent his Death Eaters but what if this time he came himself and killed Harry in his sleep?"

Harry straightened up. "Thanks a lot, Tonks."

"Oh, sorry, love! I meant that Hogwarts needs more protection."

"Can't the Ministry spare some Aurors? That way they'll know if a Dark Wizard is approaching."

Tonks shook her head. "Without _proof_ that Voldemort is back the Ministry would laugh at such a request, love. Sorry."

Harry frowned. "What else can we do?"

"Put up more wards, I suppose," Lupin said. "All right, then, none of these Tracking Spells are working. I don't reckon we'll be able to find him this way." Lupin looked up at Harry. "Just because spells won't find him, I don't think that means he isn't back. You were healthier after you came through the veil; I daresay so is Voldemort."

Harry's frown deepened. "Healthier? If he's stronger how am I suppose to destroy him? And further more, how the hell did he come back? I mean, I know I came back but I thought he'd be stuck behind the veil forever."

Lupin and Tonks looked at each other.

"It doesn't make any sense." Harry thought a moment. "Oh. Fuck."

"What is it?" Tonks asked, knocking over an ink bottle. Lupin waved his wand and repaired the bottle and cleaned up the mess without taking his eyes off of Harry – the professor had a lot of practice cleaning up Tonks' messes.

"The first time Voldemort tried to kill me the spell backfired and it killed his body, not his soul. That's what happened this time. His soul was still free on the other side of that veil. You don't suppose if they got Voldemort out they could have gotten other Death Eaters out, do you?" Harry's face paled. "You don't suppose they could have gotten Salazar Slytherin out…"

The disturbed looks on Lupin and Tonks' faces made Harry wish he hadn't said anything at all.

* * *

Later that day Ron went to take a nap so Hermione excused herself from Gyffindor Tower after correcting his essay and went to the library. Spotting Ginny at a corner table, Hermione sat down across from her, setting her Astronomy books down on the table.

"Hi," Ginny said.

Hermione smiled. The two girls were silent and all that could be heard was the slight scribbling on their parchments. Hermione sucked on the end of her sugar quill – one that she had stole from Ron's room – and tried to think of a grand concluding sentence.

"Ginny… can I ask you a question? It's a bit personal, though."

Ginny looked up from her books. "Sure. What is it?"

Hermione's cheeks pinked. "Well, the thing is… Do you take Madam Pomfrey's Contraceptive Draught?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Does it ever make you sick?"

"The first month I took it I threw up a couple of times. Madam Pomfrey said it was because the Draught is so strong. It wards off any curses and always prevents pregnancies. I just accepted the puking, really. I'd rather puke than get the Toenail Curse."

Hermione made a face. Unless a wizard had sex with a Muggle there were only three sexually transmitted curses. The toenail curse was the most common. The infected would sprout toenail-like growths all over their nether regions. The other curses included the Itching Curse – where the infected would not be able to stop itching, even in public, for more than three seconds – and the Growth Curse. The second curse was really two curses classified together. One would either have their privates shrunk into nothing or engorged up to eleven times the normal size. There were other curses as well, but they had all died out over the years. There was a Contraceptive Charm but it only warded against pregnancies. The draught protected the body from curses as well.

"Why, does it make you sick?" Ginny asked.

"Just this week."

"Well, if you're taking the Draught it's not because of pregnancy."

Hermione blushed. "Well, Ron and I aren't… not yet, anyway."

"Really? The way you two disappear I thought you were shagging like rabbits."

"Ho ho. But, no. To be perfectly honest… Ron's been more adamant about sex than I have. Bit surprising, really, as most people think _I'm_ the uptight one."

"My brother's a bit mystified about this thing we call sex and love. You know Hermione… if you ever need to talk to someone about it all, I don't mind. I know Ron's my brother but I'm not as unreasonable as he is. If Harry and I so much as have a tiff Ron goes crazy if Harry tries to bitch to him about me. You can always complain to me about my brother." Ginny rolled her eyes. "He's a complete arse when it comes to my boyfriends."

"Thanks, Ginny. I appreciate it."

Ginny nodded. "No problem."

"I suppose I _am_ nervous about it."

"About what? Sex?"

Hermione nodded. "It's not as if we haven't done things and it's not as though I'm completely uncomfortable being starkers in front of him and I know it shall get better the more times we do it but…"

"But?"

"But, what I'm really scared about it is knowing that it'll, you know… hurt."

Ginny waved her hand. "Oh, that. It's not that bad, really." Ginny looked Hermione up and down. "Er… well, maybe for you it might be."

"What! Why for me?"

"Ron's twice your size. Harry's bigger than me, but not by too much. Ron's… tall."

"So?"

Ginny cleared her throat. For someone as bright as Hermione, sometimes she just didn't get things. "Well, the taller you are, the bigger your hands and your feet and your…"

"Oh." Hermione covered her face with her hands. "You're right, Ron's twice as big as me. He can pick me up with one arm."

"I wouldn't worry, though. The first time is really all emotional – for the girl. It was for me. It was about connecting to Harry." Ginny sighed. "It was lovely, really. In an odd, non-sexual way, Harry takes care of me. He knows when I need him to listen and when I need him to just hug me and when I need to be left alone. Lately he hasn't been as good at it but he tries – he really does. So, while now the whole shagging thing is really quite lovely physically, the first time it wasn't as enjoyable but it was still lovely as well."

Hermione frowned.

"Let me put it this way, though." Ginny leaned in closer over the table. "I have six brothers. Neville is one of my best friends and I've had a lot of boyfriends. I've heard things about sex that would turn your stomach. Boys, the whole lot of them, are randy gits. It might hurt the first time but just be grateful that Ron's not going to last long enough for the pain to ever be unbearable."

"Last? What are you saying?"

"I talk to Fred and George and Percy's girlfriends a lot, right? Angelina told me the first time they had sex Fred came within a minute. It wasn't until they'd done it a few times for him to gain control over himself. Percy? Same thing. Neville? Poor Neville – ten seconds, _tops_. Now, when Dean shagged Lavender she said it was about two minutes. My point is, guys don't know how to handle themselves the first time they have sex. So, if it hurts, it won't hurt for long. You think Ron has enough self control to last for twenty minutes?" Ginny sniggered to herself.

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Well, then, how long did Harry last?"

Ginny smiled. "Over five minutes. It was lovely, really." The red headed girl sighed. "Now he has _complete_ control." Ginny could tell from the look on Hermione's face the girl was still highly nervous. She patted Hermione's hand. "Don't worry. Just close your eyes and relax. It'll all be all right. And, do tell me what happens. I could use a good laugh at my brother's expense."

* * *

That night on patrols Hermione seemed more quiet than usual. Ron tried to spark up conversation so patrols wouldn't seem as grueling but Hermione's mouth stayed shut. As they rounded the corner of the corridor that led to the back stairway to the dungeons they both distinctly heard voices.

Pressing a finger to his lips, Ron peered around the corner and spotted none other than Seamus talking with three fifth year boys and one girl from Ravenclaw. As he watched, he saw the fifth years pulled several gold galleons out of their pockets. Seamus counted the money and handed the Ravenclaws a small, thick brown sack. Having seen enough, Ron emerged fully from around the corner and cleared his throat.

The Ravenclaws looked about ready to run and Ron almost laughed. He felt Hermione walk up behind him.

"If you want to run, go ahead, but I know who you all are." Ron was lying but he didn't figure they'd call him on it. Between him and Hermione they'd be able to recall the fifth years' faces if they had to.

Ron reached out and took the sack. He opened it up and looked inside. "Shame, really," Ron murmured. "You're going to get detention and turned into your Head of House all for a sack of very old, very _bad_ Elfish Bark. How many galleons did you pay for this anyway?"

"Seven," the Ravenclaw girl answered, flipping her blonde hair behind her shoulder in such a way that reminded Ron of Lavender.

"_Seven_?" Ron's eyes went wide. "Give me the galleons." Ron held his hand out for Seamus to give him the galleons. "I _have_ to give this to McGonagall. So, before you go back to the Tower and tell everyone how much you hate me just remember that I _know_ you have a whole batch of Firewhiskey that I don't say a word about. Not to mention your late night rendezvous after hours with certain fifth year Ravenclaws." Ron's eyes traveled back to the blonde girl who blushed. "Go back to your common rooms."

Seamus shot his middle finger up at Ron before walking off with the Ravenclaws. Ron sniggered and turned back to Hermione. The look of disbelief on her face made Ron's stomach turned. Did he do something wrong?"

"What?"

"Nothing. I just can't believe you actually enforced discipline," said Hermione. "You usually stand there while I have to hand out punishments."

Ron shrugged. "Well, I am Head Boy, I guess."

Hermione smiled. "I'm glad I didn't have to be the bad guy this time."

"They'll get over it, that lot will."

"What _is_ that exactly?"

Ron glanced at the small sack. "This? Elfish Bark."

"What's Elfish Bark? How come I've never heard of it."

"It's on Filch's list. It's illegal contraband. Even Mungdungus won't sell it. Okay, well, he _will_ sell it but only to people he knows and trusts." Ron smiled. "Like Fred and George."

"I'm not surprised. Why is it illegal? Is it like marijuana?"

"Like what?"

"Never-mind. What does Elfish Bark do?"

"Well," Ron started, "used to there was a forest of elves before wizards came along and enslaved them and they grew these plants whose leaves were used in healing potions. The stems of the plants could be ground up and smoked in pipes and it gives you a weird, loopy feeling. _Good_ Elfish Bark can leave you seeing faeries for, like, a week. The bad kind will just leave you feeling giddy for a couple hours."

"And how many times have you smoked Elfish Bark?"

Ron snorted. "None. Fred and George are the Eflish Bark experts. Although, I reckon you could get Bill to admit to trying it a few times."

"And that stuff Seamus had was the bad kind?"

Ron laughed. "No way, this stuff is probably the best there is. I just said that so hopefully no one will buy any off him again so I don't have to go handing out more punishments."

"Um, Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to turn it into McGonagall?"

Ron nodded. "I don't fancy being caught with this. Even Ministry officials get fined heavily for having this stuff on them. Merlin… it might be kind of cool to try though."

"Ron!"

For that moment Ron had forgotten Hermione was still standing in front of him. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Guess we should go to McGonagall's office."

"We can do it in the morning. We've finished with patrols and there aren't any classes tomorrow."

Ron almost immediately grew hard at her implication. Nodding, he took her hand and they walked back up towards Gryffindor Tower. They climbed through the portrait hole and almost bumped into Harry and Ginny leaving. Ginny turned bright red and Harry groaned with frustration.

"You realize it's after hours?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, Ron, back off, we're just going to the kitchens," Ginny snapped.

Ron wasn't the least bit convinced. "Where's the Invisibility Cloak or the Map?"

Harry held up the Marauder's Map. "The Map's right here, mate. The cloak is too small for me and Ginny both."

Ron snatched the Marauder's Map out of Harry's hand before Harry had time to react. He looked at the top fold of the Map and had to count to ten inside his head before handing the old bit of parchment back.

"The kitchens, eh? How come that's a clear view of the Room of Requirement, then?"

Ginny blushed profusely while Harry yawned.

"This overprotective act of yours makes me bored, Ron," he said. "I don't get arse-faced every time you want to have some alone time with your girlfriend so don't get pissy when I want to have some with mine. For all _you_ know we're going somewhere to talk about my chat with Lupin earlier today and as Seamus is throwing a tantrum in the dormitory and the Common Room is filled, Ginny and I have little options of where to go to have a _private_ conversation. I don't shag your sister every time I'm alone with her, you know," Harry barked out, fuming. "And I'm tired of you treating me like a sex-crazed arse because I'm not and I treat Ginny just fine so _back off_!"

Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were all left speechless. Harry climbed through the portrait hole. Ginny hesitated before following. Glancing at Ron, Hermione placed her hand on his arm. He flinched and looked down at her.

"Er…"

"Don't get too upset," Hermione said, her eyes pleading with Ron to stay cool.

"Right. Shall we go upstairs, then?"

Hermione nodded. She allowed herself to be led up the stairs to Ron's room. He opened his door and immediately cast a sealing charm on the door.

"Don't forget the Silencing Charm."

"Right." Ron waved his wand and sound proofed the room. Now he could make Hermione yell as loud as humanly possible and no one outside that room would ever hear it. Of course, Ron had never been able to really make Hermione yell… Hopefully, one day he'd hone his skills well enough that she'd yell out his name. _That_ would be a turn on.

Hermione swallowed. "Ron…"

Ron closed the gap between them and looked down at her. "Yes?"

Shaking her head, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Nothing." She gave a little jump and Ron caught her. Wrapping her legs around his waist and kissed his mouth hotly. The kiss tasted like Chocolate Frogs, pumpkin juice, and desire.

Ron walked carefully over to his bed and laid Hermione down on it. He took off her trainers and socks before settling his weight on top of her. His heart began to race as he brushed her hair away from her face and studied how full her bottom lip was. Unsure exactly how it happened, Ron managed to take off all of Hermione's clothes except her knickers. She managed to rid him of everything – Hermione didn't waste her time.

"_Mmm_," Ron moaned sharply as Hermione ran her fingers up and down him. Ron kissed her breasts and removed her knickers slowly, allowing her to kick them off when they reached her ankles. His lips returned to her mouth as he felt himself against her. Heat was radiating from her and he could feel himself almost burst in the anticipation.

"You want to?" Ron asked in her ear.

"Yes," Hermione whispered back.

Ron sucked in a breath and steadied himself above her. Hermione opened her knees a bit more and braced herself.

_Knock! Knock!_

"Fuck," Ron panted.

"Ignore it," Hermione said. "They can't hear us in here."

_Knock! Knock!_

"They'll go away if they don't think we're here."

Ron nodded. The mood was ruined but he bent back down to kiss her and slide his tongue inside of her mouth and tasting the –

_Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"What the _fuck_," Ron snapped.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"I'm going to _kill_ whoever is on the other side of the door!" Ron got up from the bed and pulled the sheet off it. He threw the blanket up over Hermione and kissed her head before wrapping the sheet around the middle and stalking off towards the door.

Ron opened the door furiously and looked out. "What!" he barked.

Seamus turned bright red and looked Ron up and down. "I, er… Sorry. Bad time?"

"A bit," Ron snapped. "Why are you trying to bang my bloody door down for?"

Seamus glanced behind Ron into his room, but Ron moved over the doorway and blocked his bed from Seamus' view.

"Right, then. I wanted to come up here to see, uh, if you'd gone to McGonagall, er, yet."

"No. In the morning." Ron moved to shut his door but Seamus stopped him. "What?"

"I wanted to know if we could strike a deal?"

"No."

"Wait, hear me out, yeah? This could get me expelled from Hogwarts. Me mam would be furious. Can't we work something out…"

Ron groaned. "I don't know, Seamus. Let's wait until tomorrow. I'm sort of in the middle of something here."

"Yes, right, well, have fun with your shag."

Ron slammed the door and picked up his wand from the floor, sealing the door and silencing the room. With a large sigh, he flopped down on the bed next to Hermione.

"Bugger."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. She curled up next to him and reached her hand underneath the sheet to feel of him. His excitement had certainly ebbed away, much to Hermione's (and Ron's) disappointment.

"Do that for ten more seconds and we'll give it another go."

Hermione laughed. "You _are_ a randy git, aren't you?"

"I'm a _boy_," Ron said defensively.

"No doubt there."

Ron turned back over and rest his weigh on Hermione when –

_Knock! Knock!_

"What _now_?" Ron groaned. He took the sheet and flung open the door. "What is it now, Seamus?"

"Er, sorry, mate. I was on my way to the Common Room when McGonagall came inside and asked for me to fetch you and tell you to get Hermione. Harry and Ginny are already down there."

"Why does she want me?" Ron asked.

Seamus shrugged. "She didn't say, but as I was walking back up the stairs I heard her say something about You-Know-Who being back." Seamus' eyes widened. "Is he really back?"

Ron frowned. "If McGonagall said he is, then I'm sure he is."

"Wow."

"Please, go, so I can get dressed."

Seamus nodded once and turned on his heel to walk back down the stairs. Before Ron had the chance to close his door, Harry appeared. Looking Ron up and down he sniggered.

"McGonagall wondered what was taking Seamus so long. You'd better hurry and get dressed."

"I _know_," Ron snapped. "Everyone is bloody interrupting me!" Ron almost slammed the door, but caught it and reopened it. "Harry? Is he really back?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, and McGonagall said he's making threats against _us_."

* * *

**To Be Continued…  
**

**a/n: sorry if there's mistakes. i didn't go back and edit it. think we can get the reviews to 230? i'll post another chapter if it gets up to 230. :) hehehehehe.  
**


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Harry packed his trunk quickly, knowing that sitting on his bed was a sad looking sixth year red head clutching his pillow to her chest. Her trunk was already downstairs with McGonagall. She sniffled. Seamus, Dean, and Neville were all bunking in the sixth year dorm at the moment. The three of them quickly made their break for it when Harry came back into the room cursing and throwing stuff into his trunk with loud bangs.

Seamus, having only a slight idea what might be going on, ushered the other two seventh year boys out of the room as soon as he spotted a red-eyed Ginny standing in the doorway. Now, Harry and Ginny were the only ones in the room and, having calmed down a bit, Harry was packing his trunk neatly, but quickly.

"I'm afraid that with Dumbledore gone the four of you are in grave danger here. Voldemort sent a message through one of his followers' sons here at Hogwarts – the Dark Lord threatens to show up at Hogwarts to find you and harm you," McGonagall had told them in the Common Room a few minutes earlier.

"Why all of us?" Harry asked. "Why not just me?"

"Because he feels you all are his greatest threat. He knows he cannot fight _you_, Mr. Potter, without _them_ there by your side." McGonagall cleared her throat then and the four Gryffindors noticed how straight she was standing, almost forcing herself not to collapse. "If necessary I shall have to send Mr. Longbottom and Miss Lovegood away from Hogwarts as well."

"What! Why?" Harry already felt terrible enough that McGonagall and the Order were sending him and his friends away from school. He knew it wasn't just for their protection, it was for the protection of the entire school. Voldemort and his Death Eaters would have no problems killing anyone who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when he came looking for Harry.

"They've fought along your side in the past. Lord Voldemort does not forget."

Now, ten minutes later, Harry was finishing up packing his trunk. It was unknown whether or not they'd be returning to finish out their seventh year. Harry could only imagine Hermione having a fit about the possibility of not being able to take her NEWTs. Closing and locking his trunk, Harry thanked himself for not being Ron and having no choice but to listen to her ranting about NEWTs.

After rising from his knees to his feet Harry surveyed the room. Four four-poster beds were all aligned against the walls in the circular room with desks next to them. Each of the beds had trunks at the end of them. None of the beds, except for Harry's were made and random bits of clothing and crumbled up bits of parchment were strewn over the floor. Harry sighed.

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny asked him softly.

"Whether or not I'll ever see this room again."

Ginny let go of his pillow and swung her legs over the bed. She walked over to him and took a hold of his hand, leaning against him.

"I wish I hadn't dragged you into this."

"I dragged myself into this. I didn't let you push me aside when you went to try and save Sirius and I didn't let you push me aside last year either. I was already involved though… even before my fourth year."

"It just seems like ever since you've known me all I've done is put you in danger."

"You can't possibly blame my first year on yourself. That was when I was first introduced to Tom. That's when it all started with me. I've been a part of this battle since I was eleven. There was never any choice. You couldn't have stopped me from trying to destroy him – I would've helped you no matter what."

"But, now, you're being taken away from school!"

Ginny shrugged. "At least that means no more Potions."

Harry pointed his wand at his trunk. "_Locomotor trunk_." They walked down the staircase, Harry's trunk in tow.

Waiting at the bottom of the staircase was a disgruntled looking Ron and a puffy-eyed Hermione. Immediately Harry felt guilty, his stomach tied itself in a tight knot. With his head held high he looked straight at Professor McGonagall.

"Are we going to Grimmauld Place?"

"No, Mr. Potter. You are going to a safe house somewhere else all together. Even I know not where it is. Only one other person knows where you'll be staying and that is your Secret Keeper. The house is untraceable and has more wards around it than even Order headquarters. You'll be safe there. Although, I must warn you not to leave the house. Ever." McGonagall looked down at them through her spectacles.

"But, where will we get food and all that?" Ron asked.

"You'll be fully supplied with everything you'll need, don't worry."

"What if we need to owl someone?" Hermione asked. "What about lessons and NEWTs?"

Harry looked at Ginny and gave her a look that said "I told you so."

"A complete list of what you'll need to learn in order to pass your NEWTs for each subject will be provided to you. Although, when you can take your NEWTs, I cannot say. Don't fret, Miss Granger; it will all work out. As far as your need to owl anyone, you have owls, do you not?"

"I have Hedwig."

"And I have Pig."

"I must _insist_ you do not write anything specific in your letters of your whereabouts. Replies to any letters that you feel you _must_ send will be sent to your Secret Keeper and he shall bring the notes directly to you."

Ron was a bit confused. "What if this Secret Keeper is being followed by Death Eaters? Won't they see him coming to the house and know immediately where we're staying?"

"Oh, honestly, Ron," Hermione said, a tone of exasperation in her voice. "We learned about Secret Keepers in History of Magic _and_ in Charms class."

"Would you like to explain it to me, then, since you're so bloody brilliant?" Ron snapped.

"May I?" Hermione asked Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall raised up both her hands in a surrender. "Be my guest, Miss Granger."

"If a Death Eater is looking through the dining room window and we've all seated ourselves to dinner he won't know we're there – he'll see naught but an empty room. He won't know he's seeing _us_ because it's a _secret_. No one will know where we are staying unless the Secret Keeper tells someone and it's no longer a secret anymore."

"I don't really understand, but as long as it's safe…"

Hermione almost shook from the restraint to roll her eyes. Instead she just turned her gaze back to McGonagall.

"Professor…"

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"If the prophecy is true and I'm the only one who can destroy Voldemort… er, well, if I _can_ destroy Voldemort… then is going into hiding the best way to do it?"

McGonagall straightened up. "Yes, Mr. Potter. You can work on your Shield Charms and your Defense Against the Dark Arts like you had been doing in the DA. Don't think of this as an imprisonment… think of it as a time to expand your learning capacities. You are all of age – well, except, you, Miss Weasley, but I still expect you to act mature. I am _fully_ aware of the goings-on in this school. _Some _of that behavior should not be tolerated. Your Secret Keeper will be around daily to monitor you, but he cannot be there every hour of each day so I must insist you act within the same rules that Hogwarts imposes."

"Yes, Professor," the four teens mumbled.

"However, since you follow those rules as well as you do, you will notice at the safe house there is a cauldron for working on any… potions… you might find yourself needing."

Hermione looked thoroughly mortified and the shade of red her face turned could have competed against any Weasley blush. Harry smirked and Ginny had to look away to keep from laughing.

"Although, I hope you use the cauldron and any ingredients there to work on Potions for NEWTs. Come now, grab your trunks, there's a portkey waiting."

* * *

The house was small and somewhere in the English countryside. _No,_ Harry thought, looking out of the window, _the Irish countryside_. The lounge had a bright purple couch and two overstuffed, patched blue armchairs all in front of the fireplace. A red and orange rug on the floor underneath a short coffee table. Sconces covered the walls and the candles inside were already lit.

Instead of a dining room there was a large room filled with cushions on one end of all shapes and colours and a row of bookshelves filled with books on the other. Several of the books were ones they had used as text books or reference books in their subjects, the other books were all related to the Dark Arts – or Defense against them.

The doorway from the dining room went into the kitchen which looked much like the kitchen did at The Burrow only with a Muggle refrigerator and electrical oven. There was a table with six matching wooden chairs and cabinets filled with Muggle food – canned soup and boxes of elbow Macaroni. The food and supplies in the pantry were of the sort the two Weasleys were used to; it was none of this pre-prepared food.

There were stairs leading upstairs from the kitchen as well as from the lounge. The stairs went upstairs to the next floor where three bedrooms were located. All the rooms were the same and looked much like the rooms at Hogwarts did – four poster beds with curtains, a dresser, and a desk. The difference was that there were wardrobes in these rooms. A bathroom was at the end of the hallway next to another flight of stairs and unlike the British houses Hermione and Harry were used to, this one had a toilet and a shower in the same room.

The next set of stairs led to another level of bedrooms. This level looked exactly like the one below it only with two bedrooms instead of three and another bathroom. Portraits of sleeping witches, wizards, and animals decorated the walls between the doors – the walls downstairs were bare.

The last flight of stairs led to a dusty attic that was as big as the floor space of each of the lower levels.

"Should we pick rooms?" Hermione asked, holding back a sneeze from all the dust of the attic.

"I suppose so," Harry said. "Is it odd no one was here to meet us?"

"You mean the Secret Keeper," said Ginny. She shrugged and moved towards the attic door and made her way down the steps. "Perhaps there's a note somewhere or something for us. I can't imagine that our parents and the Order would turn us loose in a house all by ourselves."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed. They went back down to the ground level where they had left their trunks in the lounge. Hermione sat herself down on the couch and pointed her wand at the fireplace. Sparks flew out of it and a nice roaring fire gave more warmth to the cold room.

"I say Ginny and I take one floor and Ron and Harry can take another one."

Ron sat down next to Hermione. "What? Why?"

"I don't fancy sharing a shower and a toilet with a _boy_."

Harry scowled and sat on the arm of one of the blue armchairs. "Hey!"

"I've seen Ron's room," Ginny said with a giggle. She sat down on the cushion of Harry's chair. "He's brilliantly messy."

"Well, _I'm_ clean," Harry said. "It doesn't really matter where are rooms are, does it? It's not like you two will ever spend a night apart."

Hermione frowned and Ron laughed.

"Like you two will?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at his best mate.

"Oh, with you down the hall? Like I'd even try. I don't fancy seeing Ron's rage if he catches me snogging his sister." Harry leaned against the back of the chair, his right hand playing with Ginny's ponytail.

"We should at least _try_ to obey the same rules Hogwarts has, especially if our Secret Keeper is going to check up on us every day."

"I want to know who our Secret Keeper is," Harry said. "My past experiences with them haven't been the greatest," he added in bitterly.

"I doubt the Order wouldn't give the responsibility to someone they didn't trust implicitly," Hermione said. She stared at the fire. "Although, I have to admit I _am_ a bit frightened. Who would have ever thought that being away from Hogwarts would be the safest thing for us? I don't know about you lot but I am most certainly going to study and work on my charms and hexes so I'll be ready for Voldemort and his little Death Eaters."

"You? Study? Perish the thought," Ron teased.

"I suggest you do the same – unless you want Voldemort to take you hostage again."

Ron's ears turned red. He grumbled something under his breath but none of them heard what it was.

Harry yawned. "I'm tired so let's hurry this room bit up. I'd like to take one of the rooms on the first floor. If Death Eaters _do_ come here those will be the first rooms they'll search." To Ginny he said, "I don't want them getting to you before me if I can help it."

Ginny smiled up at him. As much as Ron was beginning not to mind his best mate dating his sister, the looks they gave one another still unnerved him – he knew those looks. He gave Hermione those looks. And Ron knew exactly what he wanted to do to Hermione and knowing that Harry and Ginny had already been doing just that for months irritated him.

A loud _CRACK_ made the four Gryffindors jump in their seats. Standing in the middle of the lounge in front of the fireplace was a shabbily dressed wizard with scars running down his cheeks. He was thin and tired looking and appeared to be a bit disgruntled as he steadied himself on his feet. Harry couldn't be happier to see him.

"Professor Lupin!" Harry cried out.

"Did you Apparate here?" Hermione asked. "I thought the wards here wouldn't allow anyone to Apparate just like at Hogwa—"

"I didn't Apparate," Lupin said, interrupting Hermione. "I used a portkey." He held up a tattered book and smiled a hollow smile. "I am your Secret Keeper. Tonks and I did the spell only a few short hours ago and I set up the portkey."

"Won't the Department of Transportation be able to track us by the use of the portkeys?" Ron asked.

"The head of that department is an Order member. I wouldn't worry about that." Lupin sighed as he looked around the house. "This house used to be a Muggle cottage a good many years ago - that's the reason for the Muggle applicances and light switches on the walls and things. Last summer I spent all the time I had away from Grimmauld Place here, fixing it up. It's a bit dusty – I haven't been back here in a while to clean or anything, but it'll do just fine." Lupin sat down in the unoccupied blue armchair. "Although, last summer there was a dining room. I daresay you lot have given yourself a tour of the house?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered for everyone.

"Good, good. Anyway, yes, yes, the dining room was a real dining room. Tonks changed it last week in case we had to use this house as a safe house for you. She and I had our suspicions about Voldemort's return so after discussing with McGonagall we decided the best thing to do was to set up a safe house. McGonagall left all the details up to Tonks and myself." Lupin yawned. "Since the Secret Keeper spell was made to protect you the spell is not broken now that you know of this place. Although, no one other than us five and Tonks know about this house."

"Sir, what exactly _is_ this place?" Hermione asked, curious. "I mean, why did you spend last summer fixing it up?"

Lupin cleared his throat and swallowed back a blush that tried to cross his cheeks. "Well, I was beginning to tire of Grimmauld Place and Tonks' flat is hardly big enough for her… Well, I daresay we thought getting a house would be ideal."

"But, it's so large," Ron blurted out. "What'd you need all those bedrooms for?"

Hermione elbowed him in the side. "_Ron_," she hissed.

"What?" he asked, clearly confused.

"Oh, honestly."

"It's all right, Hermione," Lupin said. "We thought a big house might be nice to raise children in. I'm not getting any younger and if I'm going to have children of my own I'd like to have them sooner than later. We didn't tell anyone of the house. We wanted to wait until…" Lupin swallowed. "Well, until the final battle. Neither of us fancied raising a small child without the other."

A smile tugged on Harry's lips. _Finally_ the last of the Marauders would be happy. James and Sirius were both floating souls on the other side of that veil and Peter was in Azkaban. Remus, being left alone, more than deserved to be happy – even if it was someone over ten years his junior. Besides, there was something _cute_ about the romance between Lupin and Tonks.

"I'll pop in every few days from Hogwarts to check up on you. I can, hopefully, assist you with any trouble you are having with schoolwork – I know, you, Hermione, will want to make sure you're still topnotch in all your subjects."

Hermione blushed. "Yes, sir."

"I bet you are all still thoroughly bewildered at all of this," Lupin said. "I can try to answer any questions?"

"Sir," Ginny piped up, "I have a couple. First of all, can I use magic? I won't be seventeen until next August."

"I'm afraid it would be best not to use magic. This location is unplottable but I wouldn't risk the Ministry trying to find out who in this area used magic illegally."

Ginny frowned. "Damn."

"What was your other question?"

"Oh. What exactly did Voldemort say that made you all decide we had to leave school? Do my parents even know what's going on?"

"Your parents have been informed, yes. Your mother reacted just as I would expect your mother would. Arthur calmed her down, though I daresay he had helped with a bit of Sleeping Draught in her tea. As far as Voldemort… Well, the Order decided it was best left unsaid. Back to your parents – it would be wise not to write them very often as the letters will have to go through me. If anyone noticed that the Weasleys were writing to me everyday they might get suspicious, as none of us can keep it a secret that you are no longer at Hogwarts."

"Will Tonks ever come by?" Harry asked.

"You'll see me far more often then you will see Tonks." Lupin checked his watch and stood up. "Oh, it's almost time for the portkey to reactivate itself and take me back to my office. Settle in and I'll be back sometime tomorrow to see how you've adjusted."

Lupin touched the old book again and with a _CRACK_ disappeared.

"I thought only that cracking noise came from Apparition," Hermione mused. "I've never seen anyone appear with a portkey before unless I was with them."

"Imagine that," Ron said.

"Imagine what?"

"Huh? Oh, I was just thinking about Professor Lupin and Tonks. An odd sort of couple. She's so young and her hair's always blue or pink or something and Lupin's so much older and all that. I can't imagine what their children would look like. Are they even engaged?"

"Lupin likes to keep his mouth shut on their romance," Harry said. "And, yes, they are engaged."

"How do you know?" Ron asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Lupin was best friends with my father and Sirius. Do you think I'd let that connection to my family just completely drop? I go visit Lupin a lot when I'm bored and don't fancy a fly. They've been engaged since right before school began. That's probably the only reason why Dumbledore allowed Tonks to visit during the full moon – he didn't have much of a reason to _not_ let her come if she was going to marry Remus and all." Harry yawned again.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed.

"What?"

"That's the second time you've yawned."

"So?"

Ginny smiled. "And you haven't fidgeted once or completely changed the subject. You're _calm_." Ginny's smile faded. "That's so weird…"

Harry shrugged. "I feel really calm here, I suppose. Hogwarts held a lot of memories of the past… as does The Burrow, actually. Here is new. There's nothing to remind me of… Well, it's just new. Maybe that's it. Tell me which room you want, Ginny, and I'll levitate your trunk up there."

Harry and Ginny left Ron and Hermione sitting on the couch in front of the fire. Harry dropped off his trunk in one of the rooms upstairs, shutting the bedroom door before walking up the stairs behind Ginny with her trunk. Ginny chose a room for herself and walked inside. Once inside the room, Harry set her trunk down with his wand.

"Spend the night with me," Ginny said.

Harry nodded. Ginny took her nightgown out of her trunk and changed, having gotten past the stage where she would have been embarrassed to change clothes in front of Harry.

"Don't you want your pajamas?" Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't care. Start warming up the bed for me, though."

Ginny smiled and nodded. She pulled back the covers to the bed and climbed inside. Harry took off his clothes and got underneath the sheets and blankets shivering in his boxers. He wrapped himself around Ginny and breathed in her scent. She yawned.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

"A bit, actually. Think I can sleep without using that Dreamless Sleep Draught?"

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I hope so. It'd be nice to have the old Harry back."

Harry was silent.

"Not that I don't like this new Harry… I just liked waking up in the middle of the night to you snoring rather than doing a thousand shit ups."

"I do not snore."

Ginny smiled. "All right, you don't snore," she said, placating him.

"McGonagall said that my purpose was to live, kill Voldemort, and then die. I accomplished all that so now I'm searching for a new purpose. That's why I'm always agitated and twitchy and stuff."

"But, Voldemort isn't dead. Maybe that's why you're so restless – because your purpose wasn't fulfilled?"

Harry was silent again.

"What will be your new purpose once Voldemort's gone?"

"If I don't die again—"

"Harry, don't say that! I told you once before that I have a feeling everything will turn out all right. You won't die. And I brought you back once, I'll just have to do it again."

"Why is that?"

"Because you're my one shag, Harry, and you're going to fuck me for the rest of my life."

At that Harry let out a howl of a laugh. This small, slender, red-headed girl had just told him he was going to fuck her for the rest of her life. What a statement. Harry kept laughing.

"God, you're great," Harry said. He kissed her neck and pulled her in as close to him as possible. "I'm sorry we had to leave school, I feel responsible, but I love you, and you make me laugh and that's something Ron and Hermione couldn't do for the longest time. I appreciate it."

"Thanks. And you're welcome."

"Well, good night."

"Good night? We're alone and you're not going to even _try_ to shag me?"

Harry smiled and kissed her again. "No. It isn't always about shagging. Sometimes it's about just being close and you smell really good. I know you're tired. Sleep."

Ginny couldn't argue so she sighed against Harry, wrapped a couple of her fingers in his black hair – hair that he hadn't cut since Mrs. Weasley had forced scissors upon him over the summer – and fell asleep.

* * *

Downstairs Ron and Hermione sat on the couch in silence. Hermione's eyes stung with unshed tears which Ron noticed.

"You all right?"

"Oh, it's all very overwhelming – being here, not going to classes or anything, Voldemort being back, and my parents still being gone… It still upsets me to think that I'm an orphan."

Ron gathered Hermione up in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Let's just go to bed…"

"I don't think I'm really in the mood for that tonight. I mean, I'm _really_ knackered—"

"I meant, sleep. All we have to do is sleep."

"I don't know…"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin, it's still technically the weekend. You always spend the night in my room on the weekends, yeah?" Ron stood up. "Come on, let's get our trunks. You don't have to put your trunk in my room, but at least _think_ about sleeping there?"

Hermione didn't say anything. She just nodded.

Ron pointed his wand at his trunk. "_Locomotor trunk_," he said. He went up the stairs to claim a bedroom. One of the three bedroom doors was now shut and Ron surmised Harry must have taken that room. Taking one of the other rooms, Ron set his trunk down at the end of the bed and opened it, searching through it for his pair of pajamas.

Stripping himself of his cloak, jumper, and t-shirt, Ron realized just how cold the house was and quickly buttoned up his flannel pajama shirt. In the midst of undoing his belt he heard footsteps from the stairway walking down the hall. The steps passed by his room and he heard them going up the stairs to the hallway above. Ron hoped those steps would come back down.

After he was changed into his pajamas he pushed back the covers of his bed. Dust flew up from the quilt. Ron grumbled. He took his wand and waved it over the bed.

"_Scourgify_," he said. The dust disappeared. He climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over him. He wiggled underneath the covers, trying to create heat and warm himself up. The house was far too cold.

After almost half an hour Ron allowed himself to count sheep to try and sleep. He figured Hermione wasn't going to come down the stairs and he resolved to spend a nice night alone in his bed. Just as Ron dozed off a soft knock from the other side of his door woke him back up.

* * *

To Be Continued…  
  
A/N: Imagine my surprise when I checked my email and found over thirty reviews for my last chapter. Wow. Do that again and I'll come up with a really fast update!!  
  
Actually, no, I can't promise that but reviews do make me want to update more quickly. Life is very busy and sometimes it might take me a ltitle bit to update but I haven't gone more than 3 days without providing everyone who wants a chapter to have one.  
  
This chapter seemed to have a lot of dialogue (although I guess a lot of my chapters do...) but I thought it was necessary to fully understand everything that's going on with the safe house and Voldemort. Hopefully it all made sense.  
  
Who's your favorite Harry Potter character? Mine's Naked Ron and you just might see more of him in the next chapter if you're lucky.  
  
Ciao.  



	26. Chapter Twenty Six

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Ron stumbled over his shoes as he walked to the bedroom door. He opened it and looked through half opened eyes at the bushy haired girl standing on the other side. His heart already skipping beats, he smiled and pulled Hermione inside his room, kicking the door shut with his foot. She was wearing those ridiculous pink pajamas Ron found so endearing. It was probably the way she looked so small and innocent in them that sent all of Ron's blood rushing south, leaving none near his head to help him think clearly.

"You look so good," he told her, bending his head down to kiss her neck. She tilted her head to the side to give him better access. "Mmm." More blood south.

"Ron?" Hermione said, taking a step away from him.

"Yeah, love?"

"Harry and Ginny are upstairs" – one pajama button undone – "and I'm quite sure this time we won't be interrupted"—another button gone – "so" – third button undone – "let's give it another try" – last button – "yeah?"

Hermione had officially made it impossible for Ron to think at all. He was sure he was going to explode the moment she reached back and took the pajama top off her shoulders and reached down to untie the drawstring of her pajama bottoms.

"Oh, my god," Ron said. He closed the gap between them and kissed her fervently. He peeled off the rest of their clothes and laid her down on the bed. Her hands were everywhere, his mouth was everywhere, but their minds were only on one thing. Their foreplay stretched on for nearly an hour – Ron made love to her with his mouth, wanting to hear her scream his name which she had never done before. And while she didn't scream, he definitely heard a distinct "ohh, _Ron_!" escape from her lips. Even after that moment Ron didn't stop loving Hermione's body. She tried to reciprocate but Ron would have none of it, telling Hermione it was because he wanted to pay attention to only her, but, truth was, Ron didn't think he could control himself if he felt so much as a brush of a finger against him.

Continual thoughts of Potions homework and throwing up slugs kept Ron under control. His hands were almost shaking with eagerness as Hermione whispered in his ear, "let's try it again, right now."

Ron licked his lips and felt Hermione's hand on him as she began to guide him inside of her. Her heat… her skin… Ron was not even halfway in when –

"_Shit_."

"Why did you stop?" Hermione asked, looking up at him with confusion ridden eyes. "What's wrong?"

Ron turned took his weight off her and leaned on his side, breathing in deep. He glanced at Hermione once before wincing and turned completely over so his back was to her. All he said was, "_shit_."

Hermione held back tears. "What's wrong? _Ron_! Did I do something wrong?"

"No." Ron closed his eyes so Hermione couldn't make him look at her if she tried.

"Is it me? I mean, did you… change your mind?" she asked, her voice faltering; she didn't know whether or not she _really_ wanted to know the answer.

"No."

"Please, tell me, I want to know the truth. What did I do?"

Ron dug the palms of his hands into his eyes and clicked his tongue against his teeth, trying to decide how to break the news to Hermione. He took in a deep breath and said, a bit louder than he probably should have, "I already came!"

Hermione's silence hurt Ron's ears. He groaned.

"You… came? Before we could—"

"Yes," Ron said.

"Oh." Hermione blushed. She gazed down at Ron's body and the way the last bits of moonlight shone through the windows to his new room and caused the pale skin of his body to become illuminated in a blue glow. At that moment, his face covered with his hands in sheer embarrassment, his knees drawn up to his stomach, his shoulder muscles defined, and the light of his skin… he was beautiful and Hermione loved him even more, despite his shortcomings two minutes before. She laid down behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle and held him as tightly as she could.

"I still love you," she whispered.

She felt him relax a bit, then, but he didn't turn over and look at her. She held on to him while he inhaled his mortification in and out in heavy breaths. A little less than twenty minutes later his breathing evened out and she knew he had fallen asleep.

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning and almost laughed. It took him almost four hours to fall asleep and he woke up in a sunlit room less than three hours later but he was overjoyed – he'd actually slept without the help of potions. Ginny stirred next to him and looked over her shoulder at Harry's delighted expression.

"I was wondering when you were going to wake up," she teased. "You've been asleep _forever_."

"Brat." Harry kissed her quickly on the mouth and jumped out of bed. "Oi!" he cried out, forgetting he had gone to bed in naught but his boxers. He threw on his clothes from the night before and shoved his feet inside his trainers.

"Better?"

"A bit. I'm going to get my things and take a shower downstairs. It'd probably be best if we were quiet… I don't fancy your brother knowing I slept here all night."

"We didn't do anything, though," Ginny said, sitting up, her red hair falling over her shoulders.

"Ron would never believe that. And what difference does that make? We do stuff every other night?" Harry flashed her a smile. "Shower time. See you downstairs? I'm starved."

Ginny nodded. After Harry shut her door behind him she stretched and yawned and looked out her window. All she could see was the country side. She went to the bathroom and found a stack of towels hanging neatly on a rack on the wall. Stripping, Ginny turned on the shower and stepped in, steaming up the entire bathroom. She felt refreshed and energized after washing the soap off her body. She thought about sleeping in Harry's arms as the water lapped over her skin.

Somewhere inside of herself she knew that Harry was going to survive this. She had a gut feeling, woman's intuition, whatever, about it. Somehow she just _knew _Harry wasn't going to die in this fight. It was a comforting thought, but as she fell asleep in his arms last night, thinking, she realized that part of her was still sad because that intuition-gut-feeling also told her she wasn't going to be the one lying in Harry's arms forever. Someone else would take over her job and she would have to go find strong, warm arms elsewhere.

It wasn't a pleasant thought, especially since Ginny gave up her desire to be with one lover, like the rest of her brothers (save George, of course) for Harry. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe when a Weasley mated, they mated for life – her parents had. Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Fred all had. And whenever Ron finally shagged Hermione he'd join those rankings – Ginny's intuition told her enough about Ron and Hermione to know that there would be several red headed kids running around calling the two of them mum and dad. So, maybe she would end up with Harry in the end for the rest of her life. But, hugging her arms around her middle, she was sure Harry would survive against Voldemort, she just wasn't sure he'd survive her.

Wrapping herself up in a towel after her shower, Ginny gathered up her pajamas and walked back to her room.

After having dressed in jeans and a white jumper Ginny skipped down the stairs, eager for breakfast. Harry was already in the kitchen bent over a bowl.

"What are you eating?"

"Cereal."

"Cereal?"

Harry nodded. "Haven't you ever had cereal?"

"No…"

"Oh, I guess it's a Muggle thing, then. Here." Harry stood up and got another bowl and spoon from a cabinet. He poured out cereal and milk from where the box and carton were sitting on the table and handed it to Ginny. "Eat up!"

Ginny dipped her spoon in and ate. She smiled slightly. "I like that you're so adept in Muggle ways."

"Ah, yes, that's what comes with being raised by them for eleven years. This is really lunch, though – it's past noon."

"I didn't realize I slept that late."

"Morning," Hermione said, appearing at the bottom of the stairs dressed and ready for the day. Her eyes looked tired and she had on a jumper of Ron's that fit her like a dress. "I rather like not having to wear a uniform, I think. My legs don't get so cold." Hermione sat down at the table and looked back and forth between Harry and Ginny. "Isn't Ron down here?"

"I haven't seen him," Harry answered. "I haven't checked around, though. Maybe he's still sleeping."

"No, I checked his room after my shower. He wasn't there. I looked around but he wasn't upstairs."

"Then, he has to be here somewhere. It's not like he can just leave the house," Ginny said, finishing up her cereal. She pushed the empty bowl towards Harry. "Would you?" she asked.

Harry smiled and nodded. He used his wand to levitate the bowl to the sink. "You'll have to start the Cleaning Charm on the dishes, Hermione," Harry said, trying to catch Hermione's eye. "Last time I did it I broke nearly all the dishes."

Hermione nodded. "All right."

"Aren't you going to eat breakfast, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"I'm not really hungry."

Ginny studied her friend's face. Hermione had a far away look in her eye and she seemed to be a hundred miles north instead of in Lupin's house with her feet planted safely on the ground. Ginny turned her eyes to Harry.

"Will you go find Ron?" Ginny asked.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Sure…"

"I need to talk to Hermione about girl stuff."

Harry lifted up his hands. "Believe me, I don't want to hear about girl stuff. I should probably practice my Shield Charms. Maybe I'll tell Ron I shagged his sister for eight hours so he'll try to hex me. How many curses do you think I could block?"

"Oh, Harry, don't joke about things like that," Ginny said sternly. "You know if you say that to Ron there will only be one curse he'll throw at you."

Harry stood up from the table, laughing. He walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room in search of Ron. He found his red headed mate sitting in the corner of the room on a cushion reading a book.

"What _are_ you doing?" Harry demanded, towering over Ron from his standing position.

"Just looking up curses. You know, just in case."

"Hermione was looking for you," Harry told Ron, sitting down in front of his friend and crossing his legs in front of him. "She seemed a bit distant, like she just woken up from having one of your mother's special tea blends to 'calm the nerves.'"

"I don't want to talk about it," Ron answered.

"Hey, I don't care. I don't want you to tell me."

Ron glanced up from his book at Harry. "All right, then."

"All right." Harry waited. He hoped if he sat there long enough Ron would break and tell him what was up with Hermione's strange behavior, but Ron's eyes didn't look up from the book. After almost five minutes Harry's patience and attention span were wearing quite thin. "Okay, fine, I lied, tell me."

"No."

"Please?"

Ron shook his head. His eyes glided over the words on the page in front of him but he was trying to formulate a good story in his mind to tell Harry so the boy would shut up. He couldn't stand the way Harry stared at him, waiting. It was unnerving.

"All right, _fine_," Ron snapped. "Before you and Seamus came to my door earlier last night I was _this_ close to shagging Hermione. I mean, I was _there_. And, now, I'm pissed that I didn't get to. Now, leave me alone."

"Ah, I see." Harry nodded. "That's rough. Bad times to be interrupted during a shag."

"I _don't_ want to hear about it from _you_."

"Well… tell me when it happens."

Ron nearly dropped his book. "Tell you? I thought you didn't want to know anything about me and Hermione."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, but just telling me you shagged isn't really detailed. Besides, the boys back in Gryffindor sort of have a pool going on about when you'll finally do it. Personally, my day is Valentine's Day so I'd like to know if I was right."

"I knew there was an ulterior motive."

"Want to practice some Shield Charms?"

Ron nodded, even though a bit taken aback by the quick change in subject. "Yeah, sure."

* * *

"Tell me," Ginny said to Hermione.

Hermione snapped out of her reverie. "Tell you what?"

"What's _wrong_. You're in the most bizarre daze." Ginny narrowed her eyes. "You and my brother didn't shag, did you?"

Hermione shook her head before licking her lips and laughing almost hysterically. "It's not funny, really. We've tried a couple of times _to_ have sex"—Hermione had to stop talking to take in a couple of deep breaths between chuckles. "We're always interrupted by something and last night in Ron's new room we tried and then…" Hermione laughed again. "He came! He came! He _came_." Hermione tried to sober herself up. "It's awful to be laughing and telling you! I'm a horrible person! He was so embarrassed I think he almost cried. Oh, I shouldn't be telling you this – tell me to stop."

"Slow down. My brother tried to shag you but he came? You mean, before you had sex?"

Hermione nodded.

Ginny looked at Hermione for a moment before covering her mouth with her hand and letting out a giant laugh of her own.

* * *

"No, it's more of a swift arm movement," Hermione corrected as Harry tried to do a particularly difficult Transfiguration spell. She demonstrated the move for him for a third time. "Try again. Down and over… and up and down." Hermione groaned. "No, no, no."

Harry threw up his hands in exasperation. "I don't know why I'm trying to learn this bloody spell for anyway. If I'm going to use my time here for anything good I might as well hone myself up on my Dark Arts spells and Shield Charms – which is what Ron and I were doing before the two of you barged in here to try and make this into some official lesson thing."

Ginny furrowed her eyebrows from where she was seated on a large red cushion. After her good laugh with Hermione they went into the old dining room to see what the boys were up to. Ginny, not being allowed to do magic, sat herself down on the cushions to watch the others. Ron gave up listening to Hermione teach Transfiguration and sat down next to Ginny. His sister tried awfully hard not to look at him, for fear she would begin to laugh if she did.

"I did _not_ mean to make this an official lesson! What if you need to Transfigure something while you're battling Voldemort again? What if you need a – a – a sword or what if you got hurt and needed a sling or a splint. You'll feel foolish then if you can't Transfigure or conjure up something as simple as that."

Harry rubbed his eyes. "I need a break." He collapsed on the cushions next to Ginny. He laid back and looked up at the ceiling. "It's no fun having no adult supervision if all I'm going to do is learn Transfiguration," Harry mumbled, low enough that Hermione couldn't hear him from where she sat herself down against the wall, a book in her hands.

"Take a break," Ron suggested. "You don't always have to study."

"I'm not studying," Hermione said. "I'm reading a novel."

"Now?"

"I was finished with half of it last term when that little fifth year Slytherin asked if she could borrow it, promising she'd have it finished within a week. I gave it to her, overlooking the fact that she's a _Slytherin_ and probably hates me because I'm a Mudblood, because Dumbledore wanted interhouse unity. Errr! That little witch only gave it back to me last week."

"Wow, sorry I asked," Ron mumbled. "Which Slytherin."

"Oh, that girl with the straight black hair… Rebecca. She kept telling me she was going to read chapter twenty two but she kept putting it off and putting it off." Hermione sighed. "But, I have my book back now and I can go back to reading it."

Ron smiled to himself. It was kind of sexy how flushed Hermione got when she became worked up over something as simple as a book. Even though, Ron was too embarrassed about the night before to look at her.

"I don't think I know a Slytherin named Rebecca," Harry said.

"Sure you do," Ginny said. "She dated Malfoy for a little bit when he broke up with Pansy. She's a prefect for Slytherin."

Harry nodded. "You're right. That's one thing I don't miss here – and that's Malfoy. Disgusting git. I hope I never have to see him again. He'll be in Azkaban with the other Death Eaters if I have anything to do with it."

A loud _CRACK!_ made them all jump. Harry quickly stood up and dashed into the lounge to see what news Professor Lupin had for them today.

"Hello, Harry." Lupin smiled at Harry. "What have you lot been up to today?"

"A bit of Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry said truthfully. "Ron and I were working on Shield Charms."

"Hello, all," Lupin said to Ginny, Ron, and Hermione as they walked into the room behind Harry. "I have some notes for you from your parents. They wrote them to me and referred to me throughout the letters so it might take a bit of un-coding to figure out what they mean… Just a precaution in case the owls were intercepted. For, you, Hermione, Minerva sends a stack of notes she thought you might like… She said you'd know what they were when you got them." Lupin rustled in his robes pocket for a large stack of parchments tied together with string. He handed them to Hermione. Her eyes went wide with awe.

"Only Hermione would get excited about school notes," Ron muttered to Harry, who smirked.

"And for Harry I have a book on wandless shields. Might prove to be useful. I cannot stay long today but perhaps next weekend we shall work on them together. If you could learn to throw up a shield without your wand and use it instead to cast a spell…" Lupin didn't need to finish the sentence in order for Harry to understand.

"Sir, what's going on with the Order and with Voldemort? We don't even have the _Daily Prophet_ to keep up with any attacks," Hermione said.

"I'll try to save any copies lying around school that I can find." Lupin cleared his throat. "I do have some news though regarding Voldemort and the Order. But, ah, it might be best if you all sit down for this. It might come as a bit of a shock."

The four of them squeezed together on the couch, looking up at their professor with questions dancing in their eyes.

"Now, Professor McGonagall told you that a student sent a message that Voldemort was going to come after you? Which is how we knew to send you lot to a safe house. That student's father is a Death Eater and a very prominent one at that. All of his activities have been observed by his son and then relayed to Snape who has, in turn, shared the information with the Order. The student is fully aware where the information is going. _Unfortunately_, I daresay, the only person Voldemort told of his plan to come to Hogwarts was to this boy's father and by sheer process of elimination, it was deduced that the boy has been an informant and, now, his life is very much in danger. He'll have to come here to stay until Voldemort is gone as well. He can stay in the extra bedroom – assuming you all have chosen separate bedrooms and have left only one unoccupied?"

Harry couldn't miss the mischievous twinkle in the Professor eyes, nor could he miss the sinking feeling in his stomach that the new addition to Chez Lupin wasn't going to be a pleasant one.

"Hopefully no one else will have to join the house. The rooms are a bit small, I know, to double bunk you if it comes to that. Although… I do suppose you could always take the basement as an extra bedroom…"

"There's a basement?" Ginny asked, a bit excited. "Where?"

"Oh, it's hidden. I daresay you won't be able to find it very easily." Lupin checked his watch. "Almost time now…"

"Sir, please tell me the student isn't…"

A loud _CRACK!_ and in the center of the lounge stood a tall, lithe, blonde haired boy in his silver and green Hogwarts uniform, a scowl plastered to his face. Harry groaned, Ron closed his eyes, Hermione gasped, and Ginny gritted her teeth.

"…Malfoy."

* * *

To Be Continued…

**A/N: Yeah, so I have a Beta at Checkmated who gives me really good editing advice with this story. Unfortunately she cannot give me the turn around time for edited chapters when I want to post them up here on FanFiction. I know my stories are probably riddled with mistakes – tell me if you'd rather have an edited chapter that takes 3 or 4 days to update or a mistake-ful chapter quicker.**

**Oh, yeah, 275 is AWFULLY close to 300, don't you think??? :)**


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

"What are _you_ doing here?" Ron demanded.

"Piss of, Weasley," Malfoy spat back.

"You can find yourself an empty bedroom upstairs, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Lupin said.

Malfoy stalked out of the lounge with a scowl and his footsteps could be heard going up the stairs. A moment later, a door slammed above them.

"Stupid git," Ron muttered.

"Why would Malfoy of all people turn against Voldemort?" Hermione asked, thoroughly confused. "He hates all Muggles and half-bloods, so, shouldn't he be on Voldemort's side?"

Lupin took in a deep breath. "Ah… Well, that's best left to Mr. Malfoy to decide to tell you. It's not really any of my never-mind – or yours. He's had a rough time of it the past few days I hear. I know it's futile to ask you to be nice to Malfoy so I just ask you to ignore him. I don't want to pop back in here having to mend any broken bones. I'm not completely comfortable having Malfoy here either, but life isn't always easy." Lupin's eyes rested on Harry for a moment while he said this. "I just came to check up on you lot and to see that Malfoy got here safely. _Please_ don't kill each other. I have to go."

A few moments later Lupin left. Harry jumped up from the couch and clicked his tongue.

"I'm going to make something to eat. Anyone want anything?"

"Sure, I could use a bit of nosh," Ginny said, standing up.

Ron made to get up as well, but Hermione took a hold of his arm to keep him back. Ron looked at her hand then shrugged at Harry.

"I'll meet you in there."

Harry nodded and he and Ginny made their way to the kitchen. Ginny took a couple of plates from the cabinets above the sink.

"Shh," Harry said. "I want to listen."

Ginny quietly looked through the pantry for food to prepare for dinner. She glanced at Harry who was concentrating hard on what was going on in the living room.

"I don't hear anything," Harry whispered.

"They're probably snogging."

Harry made a face. "No, shh, listen."

In the lounge Ron was aware there was little noise from the other room but Hermione didn't give him time to think about it before she grabbed him by the front of his jumper and pulled her to him, crashing her mouth against his. Ron pulled back.

"What are you doing?"

Hermione frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was _trying_ to kiss you. Why have you been avoiding me all day?"

"I haven't been avoiding you. I spent three bloody hours in the dining room with you while you practiced Transfiguration."

"You left this morning without waking me and you missed breakfast and you haven't looked me in the eye once."

"Can you blame me?" Ron asked, leaning over, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.

"Oh, don't be silly. Honestly, Ron, you act as if something really tragic happened."

"It _was_ really tragic," Ron countered.

Hermione laughed. "One day you'll be able to look back at that moment and laugh with the rest of us."

Ron's head shot up. "The rest of us? You're laughing about it?"

Hermione blanched. "Well, no, of course not. Don't be ridiculous. I feel guilty that I've made you think things like that would bother me. If you knew that I truly didn't care and am more than willing to try again, to make it work and work well… would you still be acting so childish?"

Back in the kitchen Harry gave Ginny a questioning look. "What _are_ they talking about? I thought they had a row the way Ron's been acting all day."

Ginny pressed her lips together tightly as to not laugh. She was done preparing a plate of sandwiches and was now cutting up fruit to put in a large bowl she'd found. She looked at Harry and shook her head, silently letting him know she wasn't going to tell him. Harry frowned and levitated the plate of sandwiches over towards him and took it in one of his hands, picking out a sandwich to eat with the other.

"I am _not_ acting childish," Ron snapped back. "I've always worried that I would be rubbish and you wouldn't want to ever do it again. I didn't even get far enough to find out whether or not I'm rubbish."

"It doesn't mean that next time you'll be rubbish just because you were excited enough to come before we were able to make love last night."

In the kitchen Harry dropped the plate of sandwiches. He quickly stepped away from the door and covered his ears with his hands. Ginny slapped his arm.

"_Repair that_!" she hissed as in the other room Ron asked, "what the bloody hell was that?"

Harry quickly waved his wand, fixing the plate. He vanished the dirty sandwiches before excusing himself from the kitchen and running to the stairwell where he could, hopefully, laugh as loud as he could without Ron hearing him. Ginny had to follow him, unable to contain herself either.

"Did they hear you?" Ron asked, turning bright red.

"They probably just dropped something. Look at me, Ron. Are you going to just give up and never try again? Don't get so embarrassed. I told you last night I still love you despite what happened. I don't even mind, really. It's rather flattering knowing that I was able to turn you on enough that you came like that."

Ron didn't really believe her, but Hermione looked so concerned that he couldn't bear not accepting what she said and promising they could try again – "and again and again and again. Sometimes twice a day or more until we're practiced enough to make it perfect."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Twice a day? Hardly."

"What else are we going to do?"

"There's a small library of books! Plus all our textbooks! Our professors gave us notes on what to study to help us with NEWTs. I fully intend to work on all my charms and spells and potions so I can get all Os. We'll have to work extra hard since we won't have professors teaching and correcting us."

"It figures the thing you'd want to do is schoolwork when we're in a house with no one watching us."

"That's not the _only_ thing I want to do."

"Well, you want to kiss me again?"

* * *

On the stairs Harry clamed himself. He leaned back against the wall, taking in deep breaths, making up for being unable to breathe when he was laughing so hard his sides ached. He mussed up Ginny's hair and smiled at her.

"You knew, did you?"

Ginny shrugged. "Maybe."

"I will _never_ be able to look at Ron the same way again." Harry began to chuckle again. "I mean, Ron has that horrible temper and other times gets overly excited about things… Poor Hermione – was she mortified?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, she had a good laugh about it this morning. I think she was a bit hysterical, though. They've been trying for a while to have some quality alone-time, but they always get interrupted or something happens that they can't do it."

"When's Valentine's Day?" Harry asked vaguely.

"Next week. Why?"

"Well, Ron asked me the other day about it and he's trying to come up with something. It'd be nice if he could do something for Hermione without any of us being around. Although, that really only leaves their rooms – but we could still make sure they're alone, I suppose."

"We'd have to keep Malfoy out of their way as well," Ginny reminded him.

Harry frowned. "Bloody wanker. I can't stand him. I wish I understood why he was here. I don't trust him and as far as I'm concerned I _won't_ trust him not to turn us over to Voldemort. I don't know how the Order can be so bloody sure that Malfoy won't turn on the lot of them."

"I don't know," Ginny whispered. "All we can do, now, is hope that won't happen."

* * *

That week Hermione forced everyone, except Malfoy, who could hardly ever be found, to work on their school work. Ginny could only work on Potions, which caused her to be in a foul mood towards the weekend. She quizzed the rest of them on the other subjects, finding herself reading more and more about Transfiguration and Charms than she ever imagined. The spells were complicated, filled with old Latin and English phrases now dead, and Ginny found herself feeling a bit like Hermione as she actually enjoyed learning the histories of some of the spells.

On Friday she sat against the bookshelves while Ron threw curses at Harry. Her brother was getting rather good at throwing curses, which could mean good things for the Order but bad for the twins if they ever decided to try and cross him. Ginny smiled at the thought of Fred and George sprouting antlers.

Ron was reluctant to use any big curses on Harry. Trying to conjure up shields without his wand was proving difficult. Harry had, however, been able to deflect a couple of the more harmless curses – like Ginny's famous Bat Bogey Curse that Ron had recently thrown at him. But, now, Ron was choosing bigger, more difficult hexes, and they were all going through Harry's shields.

"Aren't you going to tell me what I'm doing wrong?" Harry snapped at Hermione, whose nose was stuck in a book.

She looked up, startled and offended. "I don't _know_ wandless shields. I read the book and Ron tried a few spells on me and I couldn't get deflect any of them. _I'm_ rubbish at wandless magic."

"Holy shit," Ron said. "Hermione just admitted she's not the best at something. Anyway, are you ready to try again?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm sore. Let's take a break." Harry walked across the room and sat down next to Ginny. He smiled at her.

Ron noticed Harry linked his pinky with Ginny's. Immediately Ron felt a twinge of guilt because Harry was showing the smallest bit of affection as to not hack him off and Ron knew it. Instead of watching them, Ron went over to the window and looked outside to the grassy front of the house. At the very edge of the horizon Ron could see another house with smoke coming out of the chimney. The sky was growing darker, the skyline turning pink.

"Tomorrow would have been Hogsmeade," Ron mused to no one in particular. "When's the next full moon?"

Hermione looked up from her book. "It's tomorrow. Why?"

"Just wondering if Lupin would be dropping by is all."

"He said he'd be coming this weekend," Harry said, "to check up on my wandless shields. But, I guess I don't really see how he's going to do that if he's going through a change."

"Maybe Tonks will come and help you instead," Ginny suggested.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron said, walking over and standing in front of her. "You know just about everything there is know about… everything, so here's a question. If Lupin's a werewolf and Voldemort comes looking for him during a full moon, can Lupin defend himself now that he's taking that potion that makes him calm?"

"I don't see how. He wouldn't have a wand and he also thinks like a wolf when he's transformed. McGonagall still has human logic when she's a cat but Lupin wouldn't be able to defend himself like a Wizard could."

"Shame."

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. I mean… well, if it would work… Of course, it's just a theory… Nothing like it ever before… You don't suppose? No… Oh, I'll be back in a little while," she said to the others before dashing out of the room. She could be heard pounding up the stairs and running along the hallway.

"If she wasn't so bloody brilliant, I'd say my girlfriend was right mental."

"She still might be just that," Harry said.

Ron nodded. "True." He looked back out of the window when the dining room door opened again.

"Oh," Malfoy said, "I didn't know this room was filled." He started to back out when Ginny stopped him.

"Don't go just because we're in here," she said.

Malfoy snorted. "Oh, and you want me to stay?"

"I don't see why we can't all share this house since we're all living here together."

Ron frowned deeply at his sister, obviously not wanting to extend a welcoming hand to the likes of Draco Malfoy.

"He shouldn't even be here," Ron snarled.

"Oh, shouldn't I?" Malfoy snapped back. "Piss off, Weasley. If it wasn't for me the Dark Lord would have been to Hogwarts and killed you all by now. _I'm_ the one who warned Snape and _that's_ why you're here so best pay me some sort of gratitude."

"Why are you even on our side? You _hate_ Muggles and half-bloods," Ron said. "You use every chance you get to call Hermione a Mudblood. I don't trust you."

"I don't trust _you_," Malfoy said. "And you don't understand anything, Weasley, so shut your fucking cake hole."

"Tell us," Ginny said quietly, "so we _can_ understand. I want to trust you, but it's hard since you were so vehemently opposed to the Order and everything it stands for."

"I'm still against it," Malfoy said, standing up straight, trying to look dignified. "I still hate Mudbloods—"

Ron picked up Hermione's book and chucked it at Malfoy – _hard_.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Malfoy cried, catching the book with his face. He bent down and picked up the book and studied the cover.

"If you were against the Order you wouldn't be helping it," Ginny said lightly.

Malfoy ignored her, his eyes fixated upon the book.

"Don't ever use that word again, Malfoy!" Ron shouted. He lowered his voice. "Especially around Hermione. You'll regret ever coming here if you do."

"Where'd you get this book?" Malfoy asked, finally looking up at Ron's.

"It's Hermione's," answered Ron. "Why?"

Malfoy cleared his throat and dropped the book. "Ah! Last thing I want is the _Mudblood's_ germs."

Ron launched himself across the room, straight at Malfoy, his arms out in front of him, his hands already balling themselves up into fists. Harry was faster than Ron and was able to grab Ron by his jumper and keep him from killing the Slytherin.

"I'd run if I were you," Ginny said to Draco.

One look at the rage in Ron's eyes and Malfoy fled from the room. Harry still had to hold Ron as the boy struggled. Finally, Ron was able to shrug Harry off of him.

"What'd you do that for? That little ferret deserved to get his head punched in!"

"You know what Lupin said. Besides, _I _don't want to be the one to explain to Hermione why she needs to do a Healing Charm on Malfoy." Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron in earnest.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I don't trust that ugly git – if he comes within ten feet of Hermione I'll turn him back into a ferret and keep him in a cage."

* * *

Ron had become so worked up over Malfoy he forced Harry to work on Defense Against the Dark Arts again and every once in a while Harry's loud curses and shouts could be heard around the house as he was hit by another hex. Ginny grew weary of watching Harry fail at deflecting half of Ron's spells so she left the dining room in search of something to do. Hermione was still shut up in her bedroom so Ginny made her way back downstairs, through the hallway where the boys were staying. Faint noises could be heard from the other side of Malfoy's door.

Stopping, Ginny knocked softly. "Draco?"

The noises immediately stopped.

"Draco, open up."

Ginny stepped back away from the door as Malfoy threw the door open. He stood up straight and looked down at her with his cold eyes – eyes which looked rather red at the moment.

"What do you want?"

"Are you all right?"

"Fine."

"It sounded like you were crying."

"I was _not_ crying!" Malfoy spat.

Ginny held up her hands. "Okay, okay. I just wanted to make sure you were all right." Ginny was about to turn and walk away, but she hesitated. "Er, Draco? Why _did_ you change sides? The only other person who's done it is Snape."

"I know. You all hate him but he always does the… right thing… I don't want to have this conversation so you can go and tell Potter."

Ginny shook her head. "I won't tell him if you don't want me to."

"I don't trust you."

"I don't trust you, either," Ginny countered.

Malfoy sniggered. "Right."

"I won't tell," Ginny said again.

Malfoy sighed. He ushered Ginny into his room and shut the door behind her. He sat down on his bed while Ginny took a seat in his desk chair.

"Look, my entire life I've lived in a family where blood is everything. You just don't mix with half-bloods or Mudbloods – Muggles, whatever. So, when you learn that your Dark Lord is really a half-blood himself you begin to doubt things."

"I thought everyone knew that? I knew that my first year."

Malfoy shrugged. "I found out end of fifth year. My father said all that matters is that the Dark Lord has the right idea about blood. Blood should be pure and all that matters is blood, money, and power."

"That's ridiculous. There are more important things."

"Do you want me to fucking explain myself or not?"

Ginny frowned. "You don't have to snap at me."

Malfoy just continued without an apology. "So, Voldemort is a half blood and I'm bonking Pansy until I meet this fifth year Slytherin who was real quiet and never really talked to too many students in our house. She was far more interesting than Pansy and I thought I'd give her a whirl until she fucking made me fall in love with her."

Ginny sucked in a breath. Malfoy in love? The thought was actually quite insane. "Rebecca?"

Malfoy nodded. "I dropped Pansy right away – she always was a bit dull for my tastes. And, then, I see Rebecca reading some book she'd borrowed from a Gryffindor by some Mudblood writer."

Ginny let out an annoyed breath. She was becoming quite sick of hearing the word "mudblood" coming out of Draco's mouth.

"I ask, 'why do you want to read a bloody book by a Mudblood?' And _she_ says, "not all Muggles are bad. My mother was one.'"

"I thought only pure-bloods were sorted into Slytherin."

"So, did I!" Malfoy said, standing up and walking over to the window. "Rebecca said her father was a Slytherin before he married her mother. She said… she said she liked her mother and didn't mind being a half-blood – she didn't think herself dirty." Malfoy whirled around and looked at Ginny. "But, she _was_ dirty – her blood… I'd made love to a _Mudblood_. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to kill myself." Malfoy shook his head. "That blasted Pansy told her parents, of course, that I'd broken up with her for some ruddy fifth year. They told my father who looked into Rebecca's lineage and found out she was only half."

Ginny winced, only guessing what Lucius Malfoy's reaction would have been.

"He told Voldemort that his son's vision had been skewed and needed altering. I had already broken up with Rebecca – told her I never wanted to see her again. I felt dirty and disgusting and _violated_."

Ginny sniggered. Malfoy's reaction was like someone who had been raped – but, perhaps he had. His entire pre-established set of ideals had been raped. He was left feeling alone and confused.

"The damage was done. I couldn't turn my back on what I'd done. I saw Snape's Dark Mark brand on his arm by accident once but I'd been to enough Death Eater gatherings to know that he was no longer in the Death Eater ranks. I asked him about it and told him I had something I needed stopped. He listened and I knew for sure he was against Voldemort when Rebecca and her family were put somewhere safe – another safe house, I guess, I dunno."

"The whole story seems a bit fantastic," Ginny said. "Is that why you didn't want to hold Hermione's book? Because that was the book that made Rebecca tell you she was half-Muggle?"

Malfoy didn't answer, but the look in his eyes confirmed Ginny's suspicions.

"So, you can't possible hate Muggles now!" Ginny insisted. "You're in _love_ with one!"

"I can! And I do!" Malfoy snapped. "I hate them all and I hate Rebecca for being half-blood."

"Oh, Draco, that's sad. You're being right mental about this. Besides, you're living with Harry who's half-blood and Hermione who's Muggle-born – how are you going to live with us if you hate us?"

"You lot hate me as well. Weasley would have killed me down there if Potter hadn't tried to save the day, as usual."

Ginny stood up. "Well, I'm glad you told me. And I'm glad you're on our side. Although, I _am_ sorry that you had to come here."

"Well, I didn't have much of a choice. Father found out I had been telling the Dark Lord's secrets and they were going to kill me. Better dead than here – but I wasn't given that choice."

Ginny looked at the floor. She sighed and made her way to the door.

"Wait."

Ginny turned around and looked at Malfoy.

"I need your word you won't tell any of your little friends about this."

"I already told you I wouldn't say a word."

"Good, because if you do I'll tell them _your_ secret."

Ginny scoffed. "I don't have any secrets."

Malfoy smiled. "I think you do."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't."

"My father gave you the diary. I know you remember the diary." Malfoy gave her a wicked smile. "I know how it was created and I know the secret it left behind. If you don't want me to tell you better keep your mouth shut and do exactly what I say."

"Fine," Ginny snapped. "If you tell my secret I'll tell yours."

"I think yours is worse, don't you? Potter won't care about my little secret… but how do you think he'll react if he learns yours?"

Ginny's body tensed up. "All right, I _definitely_ won't say anything."

"That's not good enough. I want you to do – _exactly what I say_."

* * *

Harry, feeling thoroughly bruised, painfully made his way up the stairway towards his room. He reached the top of the stairs cursing Ron's ability to make him fall flat on his face several times. Lupin needed to hurry back to the safe house and teach him the proper way to throw up wandless shields because Harry just wasn't able to do it.

"It _has_ only been a week," Ron told him shortly after Harry had given up for the final time that day.

"But, I always get Defense spells right away. It's the one class I'm first in – I'm even ahead of Hermione in it."

Harry just wanted a bit of a lie down before dinner. He wasn't tired, he just needed to feel his muscles rejuvenate. That's when he spotted Ginny coming out of Malfoy's room looking rather flushed.

"What are you doing?"

Ginny jumped, clearly startled, at the sound of Harry's voice. She smiled timidly and walked slowly over to him. "You don't look so good." She reached up and touched Harry's temple. He winced.

"I feel into the wall when Ron hit me with that damned Leg-Locking Curse and I lost my balance. What were you doing in Malfoy's room?"

"We were just talking."

"About?"

Ginny glanced over her shoulder, but Malfoy's door was closed. Looking back at Harry, she smiled again. She took his hand and led him into his bedroom. Harry sat down on the edge of his bed and looked at Ginny expectantly.

"Silence the room," Ginny whispered.

Harry took his wand out of his pocket and did the appropriate silencing and locking charms on the room. Ginny sat down on the bed next to him.

"Look, I have to tell you something, but you have to _promise_ not to tell Ron or Hermione. Draco made me swear I wouldn't tell anyone else."

"So, why are you telling me, then?"

Ginny looked surprised. "Because I trust you."

"All right then," Harry said with a bit of a blush. "What'd Malfoy tell you?"

"He found out Voldemort is half-Muggle."

"So?"

"So? So, he didn't think it was right for a half-Muggle to set a vendetta against his own kind. He didn't trust Voldemort after that. But, he's _really_ hacked off that he's here. He's going right mad if you ask me about it. He knows we don't want him here and he doesn't want to be here and he's miserable – especially because his father was on Voldemort's side when Voldemort suggested they kill Malfoy."

Harry winced. "Ouch."

Ginny nodded. "But, I guess you know about being in a family who doesn't want you around."

"That I do," Harry replied rather bitterly.

"So, now Malfoy's here and… well… he hates it. He hates it even more because he's on our side and he's spent his entire Hogwarts career trying to make our lives miserable."

"That's too bad." Harry couldn't help himself; he still didn't feel very sorry for the other boy. "Ow!" Harry hissed, a sharp pain racing through his shoulder. "I'd kill Ron for being so bloody good at cursing and hexing me but I know it's really for my own good… in the end, anyway."

"Aw, poor thing." Ginny massaged Harry's shoulder. "Let me take care of you," she said rather seductively.

Harry sniggered.

"No, let me. You've barely let me touch you since we've been here and I know it's because you think Ron'll get mad if he finds out, but the door is locked, the room is silenced, and I promise to do _all_ the work."

Harry smiled. "Well, since you put it that way. Mmmm, it sounds lovely," he conceded. He laid down on the middle of the bed, Ginny straddling his middle. She kissed him deeply, her tongue entering his mouth. As Ginny's sat up and brought her jumper up over her head and tossed it to the side Harry didn't care if Ron _did_ find out – this was far too lovely to stop.

* * *

That night Harry made hamburgers. Hermione hadn't emerged from her bedroom since she left the dining room earlier that day. Ginny was quiet and Ron was skeptical about eating something Harry had prepared.

"Will you just _eat_ it?"

"What is it?"

"Hamburger. I _know_ Wizards eat beef."

Ron shrugged. "Not like this. How did you learn to make it?"

"I always made meals at the Dursleys. Dudley loves this American food place called McDonald's and that's what they have there – hamburgers. So, when Vernon was too cheap – which was often – to go pay for some American food he'd make me go fix it up." Harry sighed. "Will you just _eat _it?"

Ron narrowed his eyes but put the bread and meat with lettuce and tomato in his mouth. He chewed it slowly and finally nodded. "It's good."

"Gross! Ron!" Ginny cried. "Don't chew with your mouth full."

"Thanks for the reminder, _Hermione_."

Ginny giggled.

"Think we should save some for Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"No way," answered Ron, reaching for another hamburger. "I don't like the green stuff on this, though."

"That's lettuce, Ron. I _know_ you have lettuce in the Wizarding world."

"We have it in the garden," Ginny said. "Sometimes when we go to pick the heads it'll be half eaten by the gnomes."

"Maybe Harry should cook all our meals," Ron said.

"Oh, he should, should he?" Harry retorted, smirking.

Ron looked up at the ceiling. "What in the name of Merlin has Hermione been doing up there all day long? We don't even have essays any more and she's studying more than she was at Hogwarts."

"I don't know – I look forward to practicing shields and hexes sometimes. There's not much else to do," Harry said. "Besides, Hermione loves to study – what else do you expect her to be doing?"

"It might be fun for you to practice Defense, but I can't even do magic," Ginny glumly said. "It gets right boring for me around here."

"I'm sorry." Harry gave her a pathetic looking frown face.

"But, it's really good that you can actually sleep here," Ginny continued. "You've calmed down so much… Why?"

Harry shrugged. "To be honest…" He sighed. "Well, to be honest this place holds no memories. Hogwarts and The Burrow reminded me of everything that's happened and reminded me of Voldemort and the fact that I didn't kill him the first time. Even though we're working on shields and Defense it's different here." Harry bit his lip in thought for a moment before continuing on. "I really just want to be left alone most of the time – not by you lot but by people at school and on the streets who see my scar and want to talk to the Boy Who Lived. There's nothing like that here, I guess. I still don't sleep as much as I used to before the veil but at least for about three or four hours I can sleep. Sometimes I even feel a bit knackered."

"Well, I, for one, am _really_ glad," Ginny said truthfully. "I was wearing myself out trying to keep up with you." Ginny glanced at her brother. "But, that's in the past…"

"Mmm." Harry avoided Ron's eye and finished eating his dinner.

* * *

The rest of the evening was fairly quiet. Ron tried to see what Hermione was up to in her room but she only shooed him away; she was too busy working to talk or snog. Grumbling, Ron went into his room and paced back and forth. He finally settled on taking a shower and going to bed – alone.

The weekend came and went without incident. Hermione came out of her room for meals and to grab books from the dining room. She made a list for Professor Lupin of books she needed from the Hogwarts library in order to work on her project. Lupin seemed to understand and took the list.

Before Lupin left on Sunday he and Harry had a session alone in the dining room. The others could hear what sounded like a heavy object being thrown against the wall.

"It's probably Harry," Ginny said, a bit worried. "I know Lupin's trying to teach him the correct way to throw up shields…"

A few hours later the banging stopped. Ginny and Ron came to the conclusion that either Harry was dead, knocked out, or had finally learned to throw up a proper shield. Ginny wasn't entirely sure what the answer was.

Over the course of the weekend and the very beginning of the week Harry noticed Ginny randomly disappearing. Twice he'd used his Invisibility Cloak and camped out in front of Malfoy's door and twice he'd caught Ginny coming out of the other boy's room. Harry never confronted her but he didn't like where his mind wandered to when he thought of what his girlfriend could possibly be doing with the Slytherin.

The other thing that confused him even more and didn't put his mind at ease in the slightest bit was the fact that every night Ginny snuck into his room, telling him to put up locking and silencing charms and made love to him more enthusiastically and desperately than she ever had before.

Harry wondered if she was doing this because they had reached some sexual prime in their relationship, because she was worried he was going to die in the final _final_ battle and was giving him a good bye shag every night, or because she was trying to make up for something – compensate for something. Much to his disappointment, Harry's thoughts always returned to the last thought. What _was_ Ginny doing with Ferret Boy? Was it so bad that she felt she had to have sex with Harry every single night as a silent apology? And, why wouldn't she tell him what she was really doing when she snuck off in the house?

Then, another strange thing happened, one that made Harry demand to know what was wrong with everyone – Harry found Ron reading a book. It was the day before Valentine's Day and Ron had his nose stuck in a Potions book.

"What _are_ you doing?" Harry demanded.

Ron looked up at his best mate from where he was sitting on the floor in the old dining room. "I'm _reading_. I _can_ read, you know."

"But… _why_?"

"I'm trying to find the ingredients to a Paralysis Draught."

"Again, why?"

Ron sighed. "Hermione told me she didn't want a gift for Valentine's Day but I think if I don't get her anything she'll get mad. You know how mental girls are."

Harry had to push the thought of Ginny's strange behavior to the back of his head. "I know. But, why do you need a Paralysis Draught?"

"I don't want to tell you, it's a bit embarrassing."

"Why's that?"

"Romantic stuff – stuff that boys don't talk about is all."

Harry sat down on the floor facing Ron. "Are you going to paralyze your wanker so you can shag Hermione all night long?"

Ron's ears and neck turned bright red. "_No_!"

"Then, what are you going to do?"

"How about I tell you after I give her my gift, eh?"

Harry shrugged. "Fine."

"What'd you buy my sister?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Are you mad?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I didn't _buy_ her anything. My father gave my mother a book of love poems written by various witches and wizards. The book's over a thousand years old. It's been passed down from father to son for generations in the Potter family – or, well, technically, I suppose, mother to son. My grandfather gave it to my grandmother and so forth. So, I'm going to give it to Ginny."

"How'd you get it?"

"My parents gave a load of things they didn't want ruined to Sirius when they went into hiding. Remus took a lot of those things when Sirius was arrested and, then, he's slowly been giving them back to me over the years – he doesn't want to give them to me all at once; he wants me to appreciate them. And I don't think I'd appreciated that book fifth or sixth year."

"But, you're giving it to Ginny?"

"Yeah, so?"

"I'm just surprised is all."

"Why?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, your dad gave it to your mum. And they got married. Your grandfather gave it to your grandmum and they got married. See a pattern?"

"Who's to say I'm not going to marry Ginny?"

Ron looked taken aback. "Are you serious?"

"I haven't actually thought about it, but my parents got married the autumn after Hogwarts before they began Auror training. I mean, of course, Ginny will still be in Hogwarts next fall, but the point is… what does it matter if I give her that book or not? You don't want me to marry your sister?"

"It's just a rather strange thought."

"Your parents got married the summer after Hogwarts, didn't they?"

"Er, well, yeah." Ron's face heated up more. "But, I don't want to get married right after school. I'll only be eighteen! And how can I marry a girl I haven't even shagged yet?"

Harry groaned. "_Still_? Well, my bet for the pool is still on tomorrow so get your act together and do it."

"Easy for you to say. My girlfriend's holed herself up in her room and won't come out. I don't know if I'll even _see_ her tomorrow."

"Well, Ginny and I promise not to bother you all day or all night so you can try to get somewhere with Hermione."

Ron swallowed. "Yeah… Hey, will you help me brew this?"

Harry nodded even though he was a bit surprised by the request. The two boys brewed the potion, made and ate dinner, and went to bed alone, never seeing either of their girlfriends for the rest of the day.

* * *

Valentine's Day.

Ron wanted to kill whoever thought up such a ridiculous holiday. He couldn't take the pressure. He hoped Hermione wouldn't be angry with him for getting her… something. She wasn't down at breakfast and she didn't show herself at lunch. Ron knew he would have died already if he'd gone this long without eating so with a bit of Harry's help – okay, _all_ of Harry's help – Ron took up a plate of dinner to Hermione's room.

He knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again.

No answer again.

He took out his wand and opened her door. She was asleep on her bed, atop of the covers, parchment strewn out all over the bed around her. Ron was disappointed but he couldn't help but smile just a little bit. He sat down the plate and her Valentine's Day present on the desk. He cleared off her bed, stacking the parchments in small piles and setting them on the desk as well. A slight dreamy moan escaped from Hermione's throat as Ron covered her up with a blanket.

_Some Valentine's this turned out to be_, Ron thought to himself as he reached out and turned the doorknob to her room, getting ready to exit. But, just then, he heard Hermione stir in the bed behind him and her voice rang out against the stillness of the evening.

"Oh… Ron… Wait, don't go."

* * *

**To Be Continued…**


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Ginny opened up the book and looked at the yellowing pages. She smiled, but it was a sad smile. That intuition of hers that almost always seemed to be right was tapping her brain again, telling her that she and Harry wouldn't be together forever. Perhaps it was because Malfoy was now in the house or perhaps it was because she had the feeling something was going to happen to affect them all during Voldemort's final battle – whatever it was was beginning to weigh heavily on her mind, but she refused to be the one to break things off with Harry. She loved him. She really and truly loved him and wouldn't let him go without a fight if that's what it took.

"You hate it," Harry said, watching Ginny's reaction to the book. "I'm sorry."

"No, oh, Harry, it's lovely. Honest!" Ginny widened her smile. "I just have a lot on my mind." She leaned over from where she was sitting across from Harry on her bed and kissed his mouth soundly. "I'm sorry. I'm going to read it cover to cover."

"You know, my dad gave it to my mum when they were sixth years… It's a bit of a tradition in my family, or so I've been told. Seems kind of nice to carrying it on."

"You do realize that this book is only given to your… well, wife?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't see how that matters. I love you so I wanted you to have it."

Ginny looked down at the book. "That's really sweet of you."

"I don't know much about my family so what I do know I want to be able to remember. That book is one of the things I know about them and it's important to me that it's passed on, you know?"

Ginny nodded.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me, Gin."

Ginny looked back up at Harry. "The book is given to your wife… or future wife… Isn't that an important part of the tradition? It's just that can you really say you're going to be with me for the rest of your life?"

"No. I've always lived my life knowing I could die any time. If I don't say things now that I want to say or do things I want to do then I could die before I get to say them. I died once already. I could die again."

Ginny sighed.

"What's wrong? I thought the gift would have a touch of a romantic side."

"Do I strike you as being overly romantic?"

"Well, no, but you're a girl – all girls are somewhat romantic!"

Ginny shrugged.

"Why are you acting like this?" Harry asked, jumping off the bed. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't understand. You've been strange ever since…" Harry looked at Ginny intently. "Ever since Malfoy got here."

Ginny sucked in a breath.

"You were fine the first couple days we were here. Now… What's going on with the two of you? I've seen you sneak out of his room a few times."

Ginny just shook her head.

"Tell me."

Ginny's head kept shaking.

"Ginny," Harry pleaded, "tell me. You're not seeing him, are you? Please tell me you're not seeing him."

"I'm not seeing him," Ginny replied tonelessly.

Harry shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and looked at the floor. "Don't lie to me."

"Harry, look," Ginny said, sliding off the bed, "I can't tell you what I do with Malfoy. It's a secret. I promised I wouldn't tell." She looked away from Harry. "I can't tell anyone."

"Is he hurting you?"

Ginny didn't respond.

"He's not making you do anything you don't want to do, is he?"

Silence, still.

"Goddamn it, Gin, tell me what's going on! Being all secretive doesn't help ease my mind any. I've had the most horrible thoughts of you bonking Malfoy and they're driving me up the wall. Please, just tell me you're not doing that."

Ginny looked at Harry. "I can't tell you anything," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Harry's eyes widened and he felt like she had just stabbed him in the chest. He took in a gasped breath and stepped backwards away from her. "You can't even _deny_ that you're not fucking him?"

"I'd tell you if I could but he made me promise!"

Harry took his hands out of his pockets and held them up. "Fine, fine, I give up. Have fun with your little Ferret Boy." He made his way to leave Ginny's room.

"Please, don't go," Ginny whispered, reaching her hands out and grabbing Harry's wrists. He twisted his arms about until he was out of her grasp.

"Don't touch me. I don't know where those hands have been."

Ginny's eyes filled with tears and she couldn't help but notice so had Harry's. _He thinks I'm a slag_, she thought. _He hates me!_ Ginny swallowed back a sob.

Harry took in a deep breath. "How could you do this to me?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer Harry quickly turned on his heel and fled from Ginny's bedroom. He stopped outside in the hallway briefly, wondering if Ginny would come after him, but all he heard were choked sobs from the other side of the door. He had half a mind to go back in there and grab his father's book away from her. Something inside of him kept him from doing so and he walked down the hallway toward the stairs.

No, even after all this, she still deserved the book. He still loved her, despite everything he thought was going on behind that closed door of Malfoy's room.

* * *

Malfoy heard a door slam from the floor above him. Knowing it was Ginny's door, Malfoy waited until he heard footsteps pass his room and fade away down the stairs to the ground level of the house. Quietly, he opened his bedroom door and walked up the stairs to Ginny's room. He knocked.

Ginny opened the door quickly and Malfoy couldn't help but notice the disappointed expression on her face. It was obvious she had hoped he had been Potter.

"Not now, Draco." Ginny made to close the door but Malfoy stopped her.

"What'd he do to you?" Malfoy asked, motioning his hand towards her tear stricken face.

"Nothing. We just had a row."

"Tell me."

Ginny sighed and let Malfoy in her room. She shut the door behind him.

* * *

Hermione sat up in her bed and smiled sleepily. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned, exposing a bit of midriff as her jumper raised up with her arms. Ron watched her, a twitching smile threatening to expose itself. He shut the door, waved his wand, and a loud squelching noise confirmed that the door was sealed.

"Oh, expecting to be interrupted?"

Ron shrugged. He knew Harry had promised to make sure nothing got in his way of _finally_ being able to have sex with Hermione, but he still didn't want to take any chances. "You never really know."

Hermione looked at her desk. "What's that?"

Ron blushed and walked to the desk. "Dinner. I haven't seen you downstairs all day. I thought you might be hungry."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, yes, I'm starved." She reached out for the plate and Ron handed it to her. "What's that?" she asked, nodding her head towards the other thing on her desk.

"Oh." Ron picked it up and sat down on her bed, one leg dangling off. "It's your Valentine's present."

"You got me a present?" Hermione frowned. "I didn't think we were giving each other presents!"

Ron shrugged. "Last minute decision. Well, here." Ron held out what was a perfectly blossomed rose – a Blood Rose that they had learnt about first term in Herbology. He had nicked a bunch of seed from Professor's Sprouts office and planted one on the fourteenth of January in a small glass he'd also nicked but from the kitchens. Placing the seed on top of some dirt, and not in the dirt, Ron had dropped a bit of blood on top of the seed every day for a month, knowing that the Blood Rose took exactly one month to grow and would then would stay perfectly bloomed for one month. For thirty days the seed remained a seed but that morning, when Ron applied the thirty first drop of blood, it immediately sprouted and bloomed, roots reaching down into the soil. It was the most glorious rose – perfectly red and without a single flaw. At the bottom of the stem where he cut the roots away, Ron had fashioned a small vial filled with the Paralysis Draught, preserving the rose perfectly.

"Wow, Ron, it's really beautiful." Hermione smiled.

"It's a Blood Rose."

"I know."

"I grew it for you."

Hermione tilted her head to the side. "_You_ did? Really?"

"Yeah, it just bloomed this morning. I reckon it'll stay like that for a while."

Hermione looked over Ron quickly until her eyes settled on his left hand. She picked up his hand and looked at his finger tips. The tip of his middle finger was blue and purple from being pricked once a day in order to supply the blood needed for the rose.

"Wow," she said again. "I wish it would stay like this forever instead of just one month."

"Oh," Ron said, beginning to blush a bit, "it will. That vial on the bottom? I made a Paralysis Draught so the rose will be preserved until you give it the antidote. I didn't know how long you wanted to keep it. I figured you could keep it forever, if you liked. Well, keep it forever if I brewed the potion right." Ron swallowed. "I'm sorry if you think it's stupid."

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No, I think it's amazing. And I _will_ keep it forever, I promise. I can't believe you went to all that trouble – and you thought of it even before we had the talk about Valentine's Day."

Ron shrugged. "I started on the rose just in case. I figured I had a month after Valentine's Day to give it to you if you wanted it – I wasn't sure if I was going to give it to you or not after you said you didn't want any presents. I didn't know if Fred and George would loan me any money to buy you anything. We came here before I had the chance to go to Hogsmeade and look for something. But, either way I didn't want to go without giving you _something_. I wasn't sure if the Paralysis Draught would work on plants so I asked Snape one day after class."

"You asked Snape? I can't believe it! Without being forced to?"

Ron sniggered. "I told him it was a project for Herbology about preserving plants and that Sprout didn't know anything about the Paralysis Draught… I don't know if he believed me or not, but he said the Draught would work on anything that was living. Then, he threatened to take House points if I didn't leave him alone to prepare for his next class."

Hermione smiled. "This is _lovely_. I love it." She got down from her bed and placed the rose against the mirror of her dresser. "I'll find a small vase or something for it later. And I meant what I said, about keeping it forever."

Ron smiled. "So, you don't think it's stupid or anything? I was afraid you would think that a rose was too unoriginal after you made that speech about Cho."

"No, not at all! This rose is entirely different than what I was talking about. Oh, never-mind, it doesn't matter." Hermione walked back over to the bed. She took the hardly eaten dinner plate and put it back on her desk. She climbed back on the bed and sat on her knees in front of Ron, barely taller than him in their seated and knelt positions.

"Hermione…" Ron began.

"Shh."

Hermione leaned forward and kissed him, lacing her fingers through his shaggy hair. Ron's lips vibrated with the groan in the back of his throat. Their bodies became flushed together as one as Ron pulled Hermione to him. She pushed against him until they were both laid back on her bed, Ron underneath her. Her knees moved to either side of his hips and Ron pulled up her jumper over her head. Hermione moved her hands to the buttons of his trousers and pulled them, along with his boxers, down. She lowered her head but Ron stopped her.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I don't want… not like last time."

Hermione smiled. "It's better this way," she said, pushing Ron's hands off her and lowering her head. Ron always lost control when Hermione did this; he couldn't think, he could only feel. He wasn't sure why she wanted to do this. It was going to put him so close to the edge he surely wouldn't be able to maintain control over himself later when it really mattered.

Ron let out a loud groan. "Hermione – stop," he said like he always did so Hermione wouldn't have to taste him in her mouth. This time she didn't stop. "Hermione! Oh – fuck." Ron shut his eyes tight. When she lifted herself up away from him she smiled and wiped at the corners of her mouth.

"Why…" Ron asked. "You didn't have to let me… in your mouth…" He was too embarrassed to say it completely.

"Because I didn't get you anything for Valentine's Day? Sometimes I don't mind. Sometimes it's okay."

Ron laughed. "C'mere." He gathered Hermione up in his arms. "Too many clothes," he said. He kissed her shoulders as he took off her bra, kissed her stomach as he unbuttoned her jeans, and kissed her thighs, knees, and calves as he took off her jeans and knickers. "So much better." He went to kiss her mouth but Hermione stopped him. "What now?"

She giggled as she lift his t-shirt up. He raised his arms as she pulled the t-shirt up over his head. "So much better," she said mockingly. This time she let Ron kiss her.

He turned her over so she would be on her back. They were a frenzy of hands, touching everywhere. Hermione whimpered as he stroked her. The sounds that escaped from her throat made all the blood rush to Ron's groin. Hermione reached out and touched him.

"You jump back quick."

"That's just how much you turn me on."

Hermione crashed her mouth against his again and opened up her knees. Ron positioned himself right over her, his heart racing. Hermione ran her hands over his chest, her hands stopping and pressing themselves over his heart.

"Mine's racing as well," Hermione whispered, taking Ron's right hand and placing it above her left breast. Ron could feel it beating extraordinarily fast. He couldn't help but smile at the fact he made her feel that way.

"Ready?" Ron asked, bending down to kiss her jaw.

"Yes," Hermione said and put her arms around Ron's neck. She immediately tensed herself up as she felt Ron brush up against her.

"Hey… relax…"

Hermione nodded nervously. "Okay."

Ron smoothed back her hair and kissed her mouth softly. He pushed himself inside of her slowly and groaned in response. Hermione wrapped her legs around Ron's middle and linked her ankles. She wiggled underneath him, moving her hips side to side to get fully comfortable before meeting Ron move for move. He didn't lose it this time – mainly because his body was still trying to rejuvenate itself from the first release Hermione offered him.

Whatever the reason, though, didn't matter as their bodies were joined, linked. It was just the two of them in that bedroom. They didn't hear the doors slam down the hall or the angry footsteps that disappeared down the stairs. They were oblivious to all.

* * *

Harry paced back and forth in the old dining room. He wished Sirius was around; he could talk to Sirius about anything. Remus was an excellent substitution and while completely different than Sirius Harry still felt like Remus was almost closer to him than even the Weasleys. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't know his parents. Remus did and was able to remind Harry of what they were like whenever Harry needed to hear about them – which was often. What he needed now, though, was someone to calm him down. He felt dangerously close to punching something. Instead, he sat down on the ground and did sit ups. He hadn't done them in weeks and it felt good to feel the burning in his stomach muscles as he counted to two hundred… three hundred…

A slight squeaking noise made him stop. What _was_ that? Harry rested back on his elbows. His eyes narrowed as he listened. Then, he let out a loud, exasperated sigh.

"Shit." He wiped the sweat off his brow. The last thing he wanted to hear was an old bed squeaking from sex when he was rowing with Ginny. He groaned. "Shit…" Since he'd left her room he had been trying to push her out of his mind. He needed peace up there in that brain of his for a little while. The sit ups seemed to help somewhat, as Harry was able to concentrate on the burning of his stomach muscles instead of the stabbing pain in the upper left hand side of his chest. "Fuck her."

Harry stood up and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't actually cried, although he _had_ felt the tears well up. He didn't know whether or not Ginny was really having it off with Malfoy. In fact, he didn't honestly think she would do that. But…

_She didn't deny it either_, Harry thought. He sighed.

No, she hadn't denied it, but Ginny was good. Ginevra Molly Weasley, only a year and eleven days younger than him, was easily the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. She made him happy. She could make him laugh and even though no one else could tell when she lying, Harry almost always could. He felt closer to her than he could really even explain. So, he knew, he _knew_, she couldn't be shacking up with Malfoy. It didn't make any sense. She'd had a thing for him since she was ten years old – that kind of love and infatuation didn't go away so easily.

_I need to apologize_, Harry realized. _Let her explain_.

Harry nodded to himself and walked back up the stairs. Going up to the next set of stairs he ignored the sound of sheets rustling from behind Hermione's door. Harry found himself in front of Ginny's room. He knocked. Slowly the door opened.

"Um, Harry…" Ginny said, looking rather more upset than he remembered her being when he left.

"I was just leaving, Potter," Malfoy said from behind Harry. He made his way to the door and pushed past Ginny. Harry caught him by the front of his shirt.

"What are you doing up here?" Harry growled.

"Harry, don't!" Ginny pleaded. "Let him go."

Malfoy stood eye to eye with Harry and snarled. "You're not worth my time, Potter. Let go of my shirt before I hex you."

"What – are – you – doing – up – here?" Harry asked again, very slowly.

"That's none of your bloody business." Malfoy grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled the boy's hand away from his shirt. "But, before you try to hex _me_ for fucking your girlfriend, I'll save you the trouble and tell you the truth right now."

Harry waited.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Do you really think that I would lower myself to a Weasley? Almost as bad as a Mudblood. Please."

"Then why are you spending so much time with my girlfriend behind closed doors?"

"I can't tell you that but I haven't laid a hand on her."

Harry looked at Ginny and opened his mouth to speak but Malfoy interrupted him.

"She can't tell you either, so don't bother. I saw to that."

"Saw to what?"

Malfoy smiled. "Making sure she can't tell you what we're doing – what she's, ah, helping me with. Cheers, Potter." With that, Malfoy walked down the stairs.

Harry turned back to Ginny. She looked at him with teary eyes. First, she looked sad, then anger flashed in her eyes and she turned her back on Harry and flopped down on her bed.

_At least she didn't slam the door in my face…_

Harry walked into her room and closed the door quietly behind him. He pulled the desk chair up to the bed and sat down on it. The way Ginny's back quivered he knew she was crying and it made his heart ache. He gently rubbed her back, hoping to calm her down.

"Gin…"

"Why did you come up here, Harry? To accuse me some more of sleeping with Malfoy?"

"No, I came up here to apologize, actually. To beg you to tell me what you really _are_ doing because when I was downstairs this past hour or so I tried really hard to put you out of my mind – I was just so _hacked off_. I came to the conclusion, though, that you weren't doing anything with Malfoy. Besides the fact that he's a stupid git and all that, you're too good to do that."

Ginny lifted her head up from the bed. "Then, why'd you think it? Don't you trust me?"

"I do. I don't trust _him_."

Ginny rolled her eyes and flopped her head back down on the bed. She sniffled. Harry felt terrible that he had made her cry. He ran his fingers through her long mane of red hair. He leaned over and rested his head on her back, his fingers wrapped around her hair.

"Gin, you forgive me, don't you?"

Thoughts ran through Ginny's head. Did she really forgive him? He had gotten so angry. Did she blame him? She didn't tell him anything to make him think otherwise. But, he still had the thoughts in the first place. _Did she really forgive him?_

Ginny scooted over to the other side of the bed and turned to her side to face Harry. She reached her hand out. He took it and felt her pull him towards her. He laid down next to her, on his back, his head turned to her, his eyes searching hers for an answer.

"I forgive you," Ginny whispered. "But, Harry, _please_, you have to trust me."

"I do."

"You _really_ have to trust me. Malfoy… Well, I can't tell you exactly. It's right complicated. I love you."

"I know. But, Gin, why have you been acting so different?"

"What d'you mean, Harry?"

Harry took in a deep breath. "Well, ever since Malfoy got here, really, you've different. I can't say that the shagging's never been better – because it's bloody brilliant – but we've never done it every night. And Ron's so close…"

"He knows we have sex."

"I know, but he's never caught us at it or caught you leaving my room or heard us talk about it. He might be all right with me dating his little sister but that doesn't mean if he caught us somehow he wouldn't be angry."

Ginny nodded. "I know."

"He's got a right good temper, that one."

Ginny sniggered. "True."

Harry blinked a few times, trying to put his brain back on track. "Oh, right, well, I just mean, why Gin? Why are you always in my room and all that? It's different."

Ginny looked away and turned over to lie on her back. She stared up at the ceiling. "Oh, Harry… I should've known you'd realize something was different."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "What's different?"

"Well, remember how I told you that you weren't go to just die after fighting Voldemort and then I brought you back through the veil?"

"Yeah, so? Are you a Seer or something?"

"No. I don't have visions. Some things I just know – intuition, really. I'm hardly ever wrong, but I keep getting this feeling that we're not going to be together forever. I suppose I'm just latching on to you. I want to be with you all the time so that I can say I tried everything to keep you in my life."

Harry was taken aback. "What? What's going to break us up?"

"I don't know," Ginny whispered.

"Do you want to, you know, not be together."

Ginny shook her head furiously. "No! Not at all!"__

"Gin, that's a ridiculous notion, then. Unless I die fighting Voldemort I cannot imagine what would keep us apart. I love you – I'm mad over you – you know that."

"I know."

"So, what? Am I doing something to make you think we won't be together?"

"No…"

Harry was thoroughly confused. "Then, what? I don't understand."

"Neither do I."

"Please don't go around thinking we won't be together. We will. We have to. One more person I love cannot be taken away from me, I just simply won't allow it."

Ginny smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. It's just my… intuition."

"But, you are wrong sometimes, aren't you?"

"Sometimes."

"Well, you're wrong about this."

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

Ginny rolled over. "Stay here tonight. No shagging, no apologizing, no second guessing our relationship. Just stay with me."

Harry nodded. "All right." He gathered her up in his arms and knew tonight would be one of those nights where he didn't sleep.

* * *

The next morning Harry sat at the kitchen table, alone, eating a bowl of cereal. He'd left Ginny still sleeping in her room, noticing that Hermione's door was still shut and on the floor below Ron's was wide open and unoccupied. He was only in the kitchen for maybe ten minutes, slowly eating, flipping through an extremely old copy of _Witch Weekly_ he'd found the day before in the old dining room.

"Hi, mate," Ron said with a giant yawn as his bare feet patted down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Sleep well?"

Harry looked up at Ron and raised his eyebrows.

Ron blushed and nodded, clearly knowing that the look upon Harry's face wanted an answer to a very simple question – did he win the pool or not?

"_Finally_," Harry said, turning back to his cereal.

"Sod off." Ron took a bowl out of the cabinet and sat down across from Harry.

"Well, then, how was it?"

"Brilliant."

"Well, good."

"I can't imagine how I survived so long without it."

"So, you were able to keep it up without coming all over her?"

Ron opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He turned a violent shade of red and looked almost ill.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, now that you've done it, just don't ever let me catch you at it, yeah? I'd have to gouge out my eyes or something. Oh, and next time? Put up a bloody fucking silencing charm! I could hear Hermione's bed squeak from all the way down in the dining room."

Ron's blush didn't fade away. He didn't meet his mate's eye, he concentrated on eating his Fruit 'N Bran cereal. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. The silence was broken by Hermione running down the stairs, several bits of parchment in her hands. She was out of breath and looked extremely excited. She slammed the parchment down on the table and beamed at Harry.

"Are you going to look like that every morning after Ron shags you?"

Instead of blushing or looking scandalized, Hermione just waved a dismissing hand and shook her head.

"No, no, no," she said. "I woke up really early this morning – before sun up – because it hit me. McGonagall gave me tons of notes and I've been rethinking the events of sixth year and, well, I've come up with a solution. Granted, it'll be hard and it's _incredibly_ complicated, and it might not even make much sense—"

"Hermione," Ron remarked, "_you're_ not making much sense."

She waved the same dismissing hand at Ron and sat down next to him, folding her hands on top of the parchments and looking intently at Harry.

"But, you're clever, Harry, and you're brilliant with Defense Against the Dark Arts so this should come naturally. Plus, well, I daresay your father was brilliant as well—"

"Hermione," Harry snapped, "just _tell_ me already."

"When you were just a year old Voldemort tried to kill you but couldn't because of your mother's love that lived in your skin. The curse he tried to kill you with backfired and killed him – his body, not his soul. That's why he was able to lurk around for so long: because he was just a spirit. Then, in fourth year Wormtail did that spell that gave him back a body. Sixth year you were unable to hurt him physically, just mentally, and he got weak and couldn't invade your mind any longer. Now, over Christmas you didn't have any weapons and you were unable to kill Voldemort's body _and_ soul."

"You're all excited over that? I could have figured that out myself," Harry said, disgruntled.

Hermione frowned. "Ho ho, could you really? Just shut it and listen to what I have to say. First of all, have you learned how to throw up wandless shields?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I can shield small curses. Like that blasted Tap Dancing Leg curse. Nothing big, though. If Voldemort threw the Killing Curse at me I wouldn't be able to block it."

"That's all right, Harry, because I've found a flaw in the Killing Curse that will allow you to be able to survive it."

"What are you on about?" Ron asked. "There's no way to survive the Killing Curse."

Hermione smiled triumphantly. "Oh, yes there is. There's also a spell that will kill Voldemort's soul after Harry's killed his body. It's extremely complicated, but it'll work I'm _sure_ of it."

"We were sure that whole love sacrifice rubbish was going to work as well," Harry said, "but it didn't."

"It wasn't enough. We need to kill his body _and_ soul. If we can get some of Voldemort's blood – the blood of Harry's enemy – then we can set a spell to kill his soul. The spell is very complicated. First all, we need blood of your enemy, like I just said. We have to mix it with certain roots that I'm sure Lupin can get from Sprout – roots poisonous to blood. Then, we have to mix _that_ blood with the bone of Voldemort's victims."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "This sounds like the spell that brought Voldemort back to life. Blood of his enemy… bone of his father… hand of his servant…"

"_Exactly_," Hermione said. "Only this is different. We'll have to figure out how to get a bone of one of his victims. Perhaps Lupin can see if someone can't dig up one your parents' graves. I know it's disturbing the dead and whatnot but it's _important_."

"I know it's important and I know my parents would want to help bring Voldemort down no matter what. I don't mind, really."

Hermione smiled. "Good, good. That brings me back to the other thing… We need something from one of _your_ servants."

"I don't have any servants or followers."

"I know, but, the spell is really old so I'm thinking that today it could be translated to a faithful friend." Hermione glanced at Ron.

"What! I am so not cutting off my hand, Hermione!"

"Your hands will be fine. But, um… Well, the spell didn't give a specific _thing_ exactly. It just said that the servant would have to sacrifice something he loves about himself."

Ron shook his head. "_No way_."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not _that_ you hormonal git!" Hermione pointed to Ron's head. "That!"

"You're not getting my head either!"

"Will you _stop_ interrupting me? Honestly! Not your head, your _hair._"

Ron's hands flew to his hair. "What are you on about?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, you love your hair."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. I've seen the way you fix it when you look in the mirror. It's long like Bill's and girls _love_ Bill's hair. Besides, I know Lavender's told you how she wants to run her fingers through it. That slag."

Ron frowned.

"You know all the girls love your hair, Ronald. They _tell_ you so. Girls have a thing for two types of hair. They either like Harry's unkempt, windblown look." Hermione looked at Harry's wild hair and almost smiled. It was indeed sexy. "Or," she said, looking back at Ron, "they like the shaggy look. You're not stupid, Ron."

Ron pretended to cry. "But, it's finally long enough to _be_ shaggy."

"Exactly!" Hermione cried. "The spell _requires_ a bodily sacrifice from the servant – er, faithful friend. The book I was reading from that Lupin brought to me gave several examples and your hair would definitely fall into that category."

"Well, giving you one lock won't be so bad. Hair grows."

"I'm glad you see it that way. Hair does indeed grow and the spell would need more than a lock."

"How much more…"

Hermione grimaced. "All of it."

"What!"

"Wait," Harry said. "This is all too much. I get all the ingredients."

"Yes, and once we have them all we'll be able to mix them together and say an incantation and then Voldemort's soul will die."

Harry nodded. "Right, I understand that. But there are two problems. Number one, last time someone threw Avada Kedavra at Voldemort he was able to block it. Number two, how am I suppose to draw his blood?"

"You'll have to fight him and cut him and weaken his body."

"Yeah? And how do I do that, huh? I was able to weaken him when I did that thing with my mind in the Department of Mysteries but he wasn't so weak that he couldn't have raised his wand and Avada Kedavra'ed me to oblivion. I was just able to push him through the veil first."

"Right. I know. If you can tone those mental powers of yours you can weaken him enough to fight him otherwise and not be killed with the Killing Curse. Then, you will be able to fight him and, hopefully, draw blood. Remember last year and the whole legend with the Half-Blood Prince?"

"Yeah, sure."

"And how the Half-Blood Prince would give you a means to kill Voldemort?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, you used the sword of the Prince once and were able to destroy Tom Riddle's diary. If you use it again against Voldemort you'll be able pierce his skin and kill him."

"That's fine and all but it still leaves me the problem of not being able to shield the Killing Curse – not to mention any other curses that he throws my way. How can I attack and kill him if I'm constantly having to hide behind something in hopes that whatever his wand throws at me doesn't hit me?"

"Okay, look, do you think Voldemort is going to throw out the types of curses we used in fifth year? Do you think he'll try to hit you with a Silencing Charm or Tarantallegra?"

Harry shook his head. "No of course not."

"Then the only curses you have to worry about are the Imperius and Cruciatus Curses and you already know how to throw them off. They don't have any affect on you, do they?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head again. "No."

"So, the only curse you have to worry about it the Killing Curse. If you can get close enough to Voldemort to physically harm him – he won't throw any other curses at you. He's not clever enough to think of anything like that. And of that I'm _certain_. So, what we have to do is get you to weaken Voldemort and draw his blood so I can do the spell and kill his soul. Then, you can use Godric Gryffindor's sword to pierce his heart and kill his body."

Harry and Ron looked at each other. It was so simple and yet so complicated but there was still one problem.

"Hermione," Ron said, "that still leaves us with the fact that Harry can't shield himself against the Killing Curse!"

"I told you! There's a flaw with the Killing Curse."

"What's that?" Ron asked.

Hermione smiled. "If you try to use the Killing Curse against an animal it won't die. It's a human oriented curse."

Harry and Ron gaped at Hermione.

"An animal, if big enough, could pounce on Voldemort if put in a slightly weakened state by that power Harry can throw out with his mind. Then, that animal can weaken Voldemort enough to draw blood, and _then_ the sword can be used to kill his body. Nothing other than the sword can kill his body since he's learned how to shield himself against the Killing Curse." Hermione paused. "It _is _rather long and involved and complicated, isn't it? But, it'll work. No one else has come up with a clever plan to actually destroy Voldemort and I don't know if there's any simple way to do it with Harry unable to throw up shields. This way will work."

"So, what you're saying is…" Ron said, his voice trailing off.

"So, what I'm saying is Harry just has to learn to become an Animagus."

* * *

**To Be Continued…  
**

**A/N: Oi vey! Okay, that was ridiculously complicated I know. It makes sense in my head but it's also 4:20 in the morning so hopefully it'll also make sense to you, too. Also, thank God Ron was able to finally get Hermione, right? Ha-ha-ha. I love Naked Ron.  
**

**Review me!! And let's play a Review game, shall we? I love getting reviews and knowing you guys love my story but it would be nice to know if there's anything in particular you especially like - for example, do you like the fact that Draco fell for a half-blood named Rebecca? More specific reviews would be a nice way to spice up that review page - but of course anything you have to say is welcome as well!! :) Big Smiles  
**


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

There was a silence in the kitchen before Ron and Harry both exploded with questions. Hermione, overwhelmed by the response, nearly fell over in her chair. She held up her hands.

"_Shut it_!" she yelled.

Both boys became silent. Harry scratched his head, causing his already unruly hair to stick up in a new direction. He cleared his throat.

"Hermione, you are off your nut."

Hermione clamped her mouth shut, her jaw clenched tight.

"I _can't_ become an Animagus," Harry continued. "_First_ of all it takes years to learn and _second_ Avada Kedavra does kill animals. Don't you remember Professor Moody killing that spider?"

Ron shuddered at the memory.

"There is quite a bit of difference between a spider and a large mammal," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "If you'd read _The Killing Curse: Revealed_ then you would know that it can kill small things, such as spiders or beetles or butterflies, but if thrown at a mammal – a large dog or a stag or an antelope or elephant—"

"You don't have to list every single mammal out there, love," Ron said, trying to steer Hermione back onto the point.

Hermione shot him a look and continued on. "If thrown at a large animal it might make them stumble but it would take twice as many curses at once to kill it. Or, if the spell was thrown enough times in quick succession."

Harry considered this. "How do you know this?"

"I just told you, I read about it. Don't I know everything from books I've read?"

Harry almost chuckled. "Indeed. But, whoever wrote the book – how did they find out about it? Did they throw the curse out to a dog and waited for it to die?"

"No, no, no. There's a Department in the Ministry that spends all its time working on new spells and improving old ones. They have to run all sorts of tests before the spells can be approved."

"I thought the Killing Curse was illegal though," Ron said. "Why pass a spell if it's going to be illegal?"

"Oh, don't you ever read your history books? Binns talked about this, you know, when we were fifth years before OWLs. The Unforgivable Curses weren't always illegal. So, the Killing Curse was tested on animals before it was approved as a valid curse by the Ministry."

"Wait, if it didn't work on animals, how did they know it worked on people?" Ron asked. "And how come I don't remember this from History of Magic?"

"Because you don't ever take your own notes!" Hermione snapped. "The curse was invented at a time when crime was at an all time high. The prisons were filled and since the Wizards who created the curse were so sure it was going to work they went to the prisons and used criminals as test subjects. They found out it worked on humans because of the way the curse was designed."

"Oh? And how exactly was the curse designed?" Harry asked.

"If I were to point my wand at you and say the Killing Curse – well, besides the fact that it wouldn't work anyway because in order for any of the Unforgivable Curses to work you have to _mean_ them."

"What does that mean?" Ron asked.

"It means," Harry answered for Hermione, "that unless Hermione actually wanted to kill me the curse would have no effect on me. Thank god, too, because Hermione's spells _always_ work."

"Anyway," Hermione continued, "if I were to mean it and point my wand at you the curse would go straight to your cerebral cortex" – Hermione held up her hand in front of Ron to keep him from interrupting – "which is the part of the brain that effects thinking and problem solving skills and memory. Basically, the curse jumbles up that part of the brain so that what you're thinking is 'stop breathing, stop living' and you die. It sounds simple but it's really very complicated. The reason the curse is designed this way is to keep people from just using the curse on anyone who annoys them – thus, the reason for the person to have to _mean_ it – and also it keeps someone from using it to kill off a whole group of people at once."

"But, why doesn't it have affect on animals like it does people?" Ron asked, finally able to get a word in.

"I don't know if the makers of the curse purposefully had the curse designed for human murder, but since animals don't have the same capabilities of thinking and reasoning as humans do. If a dog is sitting down he cannot just stop breathing because he wants to see how long he can hold his breath. Animals aren't made that way. Humans are. However, since spiders are so small and hardly complex, Moody was able to kill one quite easily."

Harry held his head in hands and sighed. "I don't like this at all. Isn't there a more simple way? I cannot possibly learn to be an Animagus in time to fight Voldemort."

"Of course you can. Your father taught himself but I have something much more useful. I have all of McGonagall's notes on the transformation of Animagi and it should prove to be very helpful since she's an accomplished Animagus herself."

"What if Harry turns himself into a toad or something?" Ron asked. "How's he supposed to fight off Voldemort then?"

"You think I'll turn myself into a toad?" Harry asked, his voice rising. "The animals Animagi turn into reflect their personalities. You think I'm a toad? Some best mate you are."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You've been spending far too much time with Ginny, stop being so dramatic. You'll probably turn into a stag like your dad."

"Or a dog like Sirius," Hermione offered. "Whatever it is I'm sure it'll be a very noble and brave creature."

"Perhaps he'll be a panther or a tiger! That'd be wicked."

"I'm so glad you think this is cool," Harry said. "Why don't we all learn to be Animagi? That'll be fun, right?"

Ron missed the sarcasm in Harry's voice because he thought it would be a grand idea. "It'd be just like your dad, Harry! And Sirius and Lupin. Best friends who are unregistered Animagi. It'd be really cool." Ron turned to Hermione. "If we turned into the same animal could we—"

"AH!" Harry stood up quickly and put his hands over his ears. "_Please_ don't finish that thought! I don't need to think of you as two otters mating. Uck!"

"Hey! You don't know that's what I was going to say!"

"Well, isn't it?"

Ron made a face. "Well… Anyway, otters? Why would we be two otters?"

"That's my patronus," Hermione said. "An otter. Although, I don't imagine that's what I'd turn into as an Animagus. Although, if I learn to be an Animagus it would certainly help me to teach the two of you. Not that I don't think you could learn on your own but you _do_ have a tendency to give up when something gets really hard."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but after exchanging a look with Ron he knew Hermione was right. He'd like to think that if it was something as important as this he wouldn't give up but he'd much rather have Hermione teach him than have to learn himself. This wasn't something that would come as second nature to him as Defense Against the Dark Arts did. No, Transfiguration of any kind always proved to be difficult for him, even though he usually got it in the end… with Hermione's help.

Harry nodded. "That's a good idea, actually."

Hermione smiled. "Well, then that's settled. The two of you should probably continue to practice your Defense and Charms while I start on this."

"How long do you think it'll take you?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Not terribly long."

"She's a ruddy genius, don't forget," Ron said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm going up to my room to work on this. If I'm not down for lunch don't come looking for me, all right? I don't want to break my concentration." She pecked Ron's cheek before retreating back up the stairs.

"So, you shag her and she comes up with all the answers to killing Voldemort. Was it that boring that she _actually_ time to think about other things?"

"Sod off," Ron snapped. "I think it's time to practice Defense. Want to try more shields? I promise not to throw _too_ many hexes at you."

Harry gulped. He didn't like the way Ron sneered out his promise – it was going to be a very long day.

* * *

"Draco, how much longer is this going to take?" Ginny asked from her seated position on the floor of Malfoy's bedroom.

"Sick of me already?" Malfoy asked, turning around from his bubbling cauldron and looking at Ginny hatefully.

"Will you _stop_ with that rubbish? I'm not sick of you. I don't hate you. I'm just emotionally tired of dealing with you. I wish the fortnight was over so this bloody potion would be finished."

Draco nodded. "Me, too."

"I still maintain that it's a terrible, terrible idea."

"I didn't ask you."

Ginny sighed. She got up from the floor and picked up the book of potions from Draco's desk. She flipped through it until she found the page she was looking for. "Where are you going to get Essence of Rebecca?"

Draco went over to his trunk and pulled out a wooden box and handed it to Ginny. She looked at it – the top was delicately carved and Ginny didn't need to ask to know that it was Draco's family crest. The carving was beautifully done, the craftsmanship nothing less than magical. Opening the box, Ginny looked inside.

"Oh," she said automatically. She pulled out a large plait of dark brown hair, tied on either end with green ribbons.

"Yeah," Draco said, staring at the hair. "Rebecca said that in old legends ladies used to give knights a lock of their hair before they went into battle as good luck charms. She saved her plait after her friend Kelly severed it for her. It was suppose to bring me good luck since, at the time, I was in a constant bad mood because my father was on the Ministry's Most Wanted List."

"A constant bad mood? It's nice to see that you've changed."

Malfoy snatched the hair and the box away from Ginny. "Forget it. I shouldn't have told you. If this fucking potion didn't require two pairs of hands stirring it I never would have shown that to you, so just forget I ever did, all right?"

"She must have loved you an awful lot to give you her hair like that."

"Whatever, she wanted it short anyhow."

"Are you sure she didn't put a Good Luck Charm on it?"

Malfoy's eyes lifted from the box in his hands to Ginny's eyes. She smiled, realizing that he never even considered that the hair might have been severed for a purpose. He swallowed and put the box back safely in his trunk, closing and locking the lid. He turned and sat on the trunk, running his hands through his short blonde hair. Sighing, Ginny sat down next to him.

"You know, Draco, you don't _have_ to do this. This potion, well, it's not the greatest idea."

"But, I need to forget. I don't want to remember anything about her. She's dead to me. I need her to stay that way."

Ginny wet her lips. "Is the worst memory you have of her when she told you she was half-Muggle?"

"Yes."

"What's the best memory?" Ginny waited for Malfoy's answer, but he didn't supply her with one. "Draco. What's the best memory?"

"I don't want to talk about this."

"Too bad. _What's the best memory_?" Ginny asked again, this time much more forcefully. "I'll tell you the best memory I have of Harry in exchange."

"I don't want to hear your bloody little stories about bonking Potter, thank you."

"Well, then, I'll tell you my favorite memory if you _don't_ tell me yours."

"Fine, fine," Malfoy snapped, holding his hands up in defeat. "That filthy tosser you call a boyfriend tried to hex me in the corridors after Potions so I sent a really nasty stunning spell at him, only he ducked and it hit a first year – this little first year who I'd seen crying in the Slytherin Common Room late at night because her mum just died or some other such rubbish. I hit her with _Stupefy_ and she went flying back into the wall and broke her ankle when she fell down. I felt like absolute shit."

"How is this your best memory?"

"Shut it or I won't tell you. I hit this first year who was barely eleven and had just lost her mum and I think was failing miserably at Potions, always blowing stuff up like Longbottom. She was in my own house so it's not as though she actually deserved it or anything. But, Rebecca said none of that mattered, me hitting the girl with a spell and ruining what was already a terrible day for her, she loved me anyway. Disgusting Mudblood."

"Watch your mouth!" Ginny snarled. She straightened herself up and took in a deep breath. "Was that the first time she said it?"

Draco nodded.

"I think Rebecca was good for you. She made you see there's more to life than simple hatred. All you ever did was go around hating people. The only times you ever laughed were when someone got hurt. That's no way to live."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it, though? Let's list all the things you hate, shall we? Harry, Muggles, half-bloods, Dumbledore, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Werewolves, _especially_ Professor Lupin, anyone who is poor—"

"Stop it."

"What did you ever love, Draco? Potions? Quidditch? That hardly balances out all the things you hate. You don't see the look you get in your eyes when you talk about her. They become lighter and less gray. They almost shine. You're a different person. You're not as hateful or mean. You're _completely _different."

Malfoy stood up and walked back over to his cauldron.

"If that's such a good memory for you, why do you want to take a ruddy potion to make yourself forget? So what if she was half-Muggle? That was hardly her fault. She didn't ask to be born of Muggle lineage. Plus, she obviously has enough in common with you since she was placed in Slytherin despite the blemish in her family tree. Harry's mother was born a Muggle so technically he's still a half-blood. I don't hate him for it."

"That's because your family are a bunch of Muggle Lovers."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh, for the love of Merlin. I'm sure Rebecca misses you, as well."

"I never said I missed her."

"I can tell you do, though. Why don't you send her a letter? Lupin would deliver it for you by an owl, I'm sure. I bet she misses you."

"She doesn't miss me," Draco spat. "She's off with some sixth year. Daniel Lestrange."

"Lestrange? I didn't know there were any Lestrange children…"

"Yes, he's related to what was once the very noble Black family."

"I know all about the Black family tree," Ginny said. "But, do you really know if she's having it off with this other boy? That could just be rumors."

"Well, rumors have it that she lets him defile and degrade her in every way possible. She doesn't want to remember me, I don't want to remember her. Let her have her sordid affair with this Daniel character and let me have my potion to forget she ever existed."

"Write her a letter to see whether or not she really misses you. If she writes back and says she hates you, then I'll help you brew the potion. If she says she misses you as well then you have to forgive yourself and stop this nonsense."

"I'm not going to write her any bloody letters."

Ginny stood up. "Fine. Then, I won't help you with your potion any more."

"I'll tell Potter about the diary."

"I don't care. Tell him all you want. I'm tired of keeping secrets from him anyway. I might as well come clean about it myself. I'll only keep _your_ secret about having fallen in love with a _Mudblood_ if you write to her." Ginny placed her hands on her hips. "What do you say?"

"I never did like you Weasleys," Draco sneered. Nevertheless, he sat down at his desk and pulled out a quill and parchment.

Ginny left his room feeling quite satisfied.

* * *

Hermione heard a rumble in her stomach. Looking outside she could tell it was way past dinner time and the stars were already showing against the black sky. She stood up from her desk and extended her arms over her head, moaning as her muscles stretched. She didn't want to stop and take a break now, she was so close to the first step of becoming an Animagus. Halfway back to her chair, Hermione noticed a slip of parchment sticking out from underneath her door. She went over and picked it up. Upon noticing Ron's messy scrawl, Hermione smiled and opened up the folded parchment.

_Hermione:_

_Here you go, skiving off meals again. There are sandwiches in that ice box thing in the kitchen from lunch if you get hungry._

_Anyway, Lupin came over tonight and ate dinner with us. Well, not Malfoy, of course, but me and Harry and Ginny. We told him and Ginny about your plan with the spell and the blood and the sword and the Animagus stuff. Lupin thought it was brilliant. He had his doubts over whether or not Harry could learn the wandless Shields. He reckons Harry has a better chance at learning to be an Animagus than all this wandless magic rubbish. Lupin said he'd bring you more books if you needed them or to tell you to make sure you get him to ask McGonagall any questions you might have about this Animagus stuff because she'd be the expert on it._

_I just wanted to tell you about Lupin. Oh, and don't work too long because I don't want to have to go a long time without seeing my girl. Last night made me happy, you made me happy, and all that other romantic rubbish that I'm suppose to say to make you smile and make you want to come to my room later for another shag._

_Just wishful thinking._

_Love,_

Ron

Hermione couldn't help but smile widely as she reread Ron's letter. He was truly a silly boy sometimes and she knew he definitely wanted to try another round of shagging – or two or three or four, but she also knew he was probably very serious about her having made him happy. She could tell he was content last night by the way he held her closely, tightly, sighing happily, his breath hot on her neck, whispering things into her ear until they both fell asleep.

Hermione's heart leapt in her chest just thinking about it. Damn him for making her fall in love with him and damn him for making her first time good enough that she wanted more. It had been right difficult to concentrate several times over the course of the day; her mind kept wondering to the events of the previous night.

Ginny was right, of course, it _had_ hurt, but in an odd way. Hermione had tensed herself up for what was a momentary feeling of sharp pain, and then, it went away and she felt filled by Ron. And it was as perfect as it could have been. Their movements were awkward at first until they found a pattern and moved in sync. It was a little clumsy, where their hands went, where their mouths went, while trying to keep the physical connection and not completely lose their mental connection.

Laughing a bit to herself, Hermione knew one of the reasons Ron was so damned pleased with himself was that he'd managed to keep control of himself for several minutes before coming. Hermione had to thank herself for that. She knew it was difficult for boys to completely rejuvenate themselves in time for another quick orgasm – she'd learnt that from books. Well, of course she did! She learnt everything from books!

Hermione crept down to the kitchen and got herself a sandwich. She ate it as she went back up the staircase to the first level. She pushed open Ron's door and heard him snoring softly. She ate the last bit of crust and took off her shoes and socks and climbed into the bed next to him. He was on his side, his back towards her, so Hermione slipped her arm around his waist, hugging him to her. She sniffed in his very Ron-smell and closed her eyes. She dozed off almost immediately, dreaming of Animagi and the animals they all turned into.

* * *

At the beginning of the following week, Ginny rapped her knuckles against Draco's door. She needed this secret with Draco to be over. She still hadn't told Harry her secret but he knew she was continuing her daily meetings with Malfoy. It made her sad that while Harry slept next to her every night in her room he didn't try to shag her – not once since Valentine's Day.

Draco opened his door and looked at the youngest Weasley. His eyes inadvertently raked down her body and settled on her chest for a moment. Ginny crossed her arms over her breasts, realizing she should never have worn a semi-low-cute shirt around a randy boy.

"I will not be needing your services today," Draco said.

Ginny smiled. "She wrote you back!"

"Yes," Draco replied, almost bitterly. "The Werewolf gave me her letter last night when he came by. Now, if you don't mind, I have some napping to catch up on. Please, leave me alone."

"Do tell me what she said."

"She's with that other bloke I told you about, but she said the rumors weren't true. And while she's not sure she wants to break things off with him, especially since she doesn't know when she'll get to see me again, seeing as how I can't go and tell her where I'm staying, she still forgives me."

"She forgives you?"

"For calling her a Mudblood and all that rubbish. She still is, you know. A Mudblood, I mean. So, your little plan worked, I won't take that ruddy potion, and you can have your time back with Potter. Although, I do hope you've told him your secret. I'd hate to 'accidentally' let it slip when he's around."

Ginny blushed. "I'll tell him, don't worry."

Draco shrugged. "Now, if you don't mind, I really do have some napping to take care of."

Ginny nodded and walked down the hall towards the staircase. She felt good about herself. Draco, the stupid git that he truly was, was going to remember his girlfriend and be able to write her and love her like he should have been doing all along.

* * *

It was the very beginning of March when Hermione barged into the dining room sometime after lunch about ready to keel over with excitement.

"I did it."

"Did what?" Ron asked, lowering his wand. He and Harry had been practicing Defense spells while a bored Ginny watched.

"I learnt how to become an Animagus."

"_What_?" Harry cried. "It's been, like, two and a half weeks."

Hermione shrugged. "I had some help."

"Help?"

Hermione blushed. "I cheated a bit."

"What in the name of Merlin are you on about?" Ron asked.

Hermione lifted a chain from underneath her t-shirt. Harry immediately recognized it as a Time Turner, the same that she had used in her third year to go to multiple classes.

"I've been turning this back a lot to give myself extra hours in the day to work on learning and to catch up on sleep. It was hard, though, in this little house, not to bump into myself, but I managed."

"Makes sense," Ginny said. "After all, you'd say you were going to take a nap and then come downstairs two minutes later to go to the dining room to practice or read."

Hermione nodded. "I suspected this would have taken months to learn otherwise and I'm not sure there would be enough time before Voldemort.... Lupin said the Time Turner belongs to someone in the Ministry but he's a part of the Order so my using it has been overlooked for the time being. But, it doesn't matter, does it? I've learnt it!"

Ron put his hands on his hips. "All right, then, let's see it."

"See what?"

"See what!" Harry laughed. "See you turn into an animal! What are you anyway?"

Hermione took in a deep breath and began to change. She became quite smaller, fur extending all over her body in the same brown hue as her hair, her limbs shortening and her abdomen lengthening. She was completely different, but her eyes looked almost the same.

Ginny gasped. "It's like a double entendre…" she whispered, looking up at Ron. "The way she moans and cries when you two fuck... and then she turns into that."

Ron turned bright red. "What are you on about?"

Ginny's eyes widened. "You don't get it?"

Harry snorted. "He always was a bit thick."

Ron frowned.

Harry sighed. "A mink… or minx… is a sexual woman."

"A mink?"

Ginny laughed. "Yes, silly, look at her! Hermione Transfigured herself into a minx!"

* * *

**To Be Continued…  
**

**A/N: I KNOW Moody killed that spider. I would have included the explaination I came up with in the last chapter, but the way I ended it, it would have felt wrong to continue you on with it.  
**

**I got a review saying there was too much fluff in my story. Too much fluff?! Never!! Actually, I try to balance things out and not have it complete fluff. It makes sense, though, because in high school, about the time yo'ure a senior, you look for every chance you can get to make out (or have sex) with your girl/boyfriend, right? And when you're in boarding school youhave to sneak around to do it so it's a bit more memorable (ahem, am I right?!?!). I actually have to make sure I keep some chapters semi-fluff/smut-free even though it's hard because after all, you all know, my fave character is Naked Ron!  
**

**Review :)  
**


	30. Chapter Thirty

CHAPTER THIRTY

Ron watched, wide eyed, as Hermione turned from a mink back into her human form. His mouth slowly began to gape open as she smiled sheepishly up at him.

"You're a…" Ron's voice trailed off.

"A mink," she finished.

Ron nodded. "Yeah."

"Why do you look so surprised? What did you think I was going to be?" Hermione placed her hands on her hips. "A toad or something?"

Ron shook his head. "No, no, of course not."

"A mink happens to be a very stubborn, bold, smart, and untamable animal."

Harry smirked. "Well, you're definitely those things."

Ginny giggled behind her hand. "Not to mention minks are—"

"I heard what you said before," Hermione said to Ginny. "And I do _not_ moan and cry because Ron and I haven't, you know, since Valentine's Day. I haven't had the time to do anything but work on _this_."

Harry turned and arched an eyebrow at Ron who turned bright red.

Hermione turned and Ron blushed even redder when she looked at him.

"When are you going to teach them how to become Animagi?" Ginny asked.

Hermione didn't get to answer the question because at that moment a loud _CRACK_ came from the lounge. The four of them raced into the living room and smiled at Professor Lupin. Their smiles slowly faded at the look on his face.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, his pulse quickening.

Lupin's body looked worn and tired. His eyes appeared red from lack of sleep and several new cuts were on his neck next to old scars. He motioned towards the chairs and sofa. "Please, sit."

"What's going on?"

Lupin sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs. He sighed. "Harry, remember your vision about Grimmauld Place and all the dead Order members?"

"Yes."

"We increased security and even put up more wards. Meetings stopped being held at regular intervals and we held meetings randomly, letting the members know by a Protean Charm, much like the one Hermione put on the coins in fifth year. It didn't matter, though. Voldemort and his Death Eaters were able to find the house and ransack it, killing two members of the Order."

Ron's breath caught in his throat. "Tonks?"

Lupin shook his head. "No, no. Tonks is fine – Tonks is great."

Ron could read the relieved expression on Lupin's face. He felt Hermione's hand slip into his and he gave it a squeeze.

"They weren't members that you've met. They were fairly new to the Order; only joined right after Halloween. We don't know how Voldemort found out. We thoroughly check all of our members. None of them are on Voldemort's side. We're absolutely sure of it. Unfortunately, I daresay, Voldemort found out another way. Harry, you're still practicing Occlumency."

Harry nodded. "Yes, I am. Honest."

Lupin seemed satisfied with Harry's answer, obviously believing him. "Ron, Ginny, your parents have left The Burrow and are at another safe house. I can't tell you where. No one can know where. The Death Eaters left a message behind – the same one Wormtail came to you with. Hagrid was the first, Harry will be the last… The members at Grimmauld Place must have been the ones in between the first and the last."

"Sir, how _is_ Hagrid?" Ginny asked.

"He's been moved to another floor in St. Mungo's."

"The one with Lockhart and the Longbottoms?" Harry asked.

Lupin nodded. "Yes."

Hermione held onto Ron's hand tighter.

"I need you to work on Defense nonstop. I wish I could be here to teach you but I can't. Tonks said she'd try to stop by. She has some time off coming to her from the Ministry and she could come here and teach you some things. She's a right decent Auror when she's not falling down. I know she wants to help. She wants Voldemort gone so we can all get on with our lives. And, Harry, don't be discouraged. The sacrifice didn't work but Hermione's right, it didn't kill Voldemort's soul anyway. We need both his body and soul dead. _Keep working on Defense_. Did you finally transform, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, into a mink."

Ginny started laughing again. Lupin regarded her with an odd look.

"Minx?" she said with a giggle. "Oh, come on, it's _funny_. Leave it to Hermione to turn herself into a sexual animal without consciously doing so."

Harry and Lupin exchanged glances and smiled at one another. Then, Lupin became very grave once again.

"There's one more bit of bad news. Voldemort knows you're in a safe house."

"Well, he was bound to figure out we weren't at Hogwarts," Hermione said.

"Yes, but, you also weren't at Grimmauld Place. He's going to be trying extra hard to find you. Don't let anything slip out in any letters. And one of you _please_ tell Malfoy what's going on? He was writing to a fifth year Slytherin – his letters _must_ be written with extra care."

"I'll tell him," Ginny said softly.

Lupin nodded. "Good."

"It doesn't matter, though, Professor, what we write in our letters, does it?" Ron asked. "Since you're the Secret Keeper Voldemort could only find us if _you_ told him."

"Right, but I don't fancy him looking around the village and trying to find you and killing people in the process. But, seeing as how you don't even know what village you're near… Still, be careful what you write."

They all nodded. There was an odd silence in the room, which Lupin eventually broke.

"When do you plan on teaching Ron and Harry how to become Animagi?" he asked, looking at Hermione.

"Tomorrow. I'm a bit tired and learning how to transform was the most difficult task I've taken on yet."

"Tomorrow. First thing." Lupin stood. "Don't worry about it being difficult," he said to Ron and Harry. "You'll get the hang of it. You're both clever. If you both want to still be Aurors this will be nothing compared to what you'll have to go through for training."

Ron blanched. "Really?"

"Don't look so shocked. Aurors are one of the top notch jobs at the Ministry. They don't let just anyone into the training program. They _still_ haven't let anyone in since Tonks finished her training. They're going to have to soon, though, if the Death Eaters continue to come after members of the Order. Half of us are Aurors."

"Speaking of Tonks again," Ginny said, "when are the two of you getting married?"

Lupin blushed. "Who says we haven't eloped already?" He winked. "Good bye." He touched the portkey and vanished.

* * *

Hermione and Ginny excused themselves to have a girl chat in the kitchen, leaving Ron and Harry to entertain themselves.

"There's nothing to do in this house," Ron grumbled.

"Why don't we look for the cellar?" Harry suggested.

Ron raised his eyebrows at his friend from the other side of the couch. "What cellar?"

"Don't you remember? Lupin said there was a cellar here but it was hidden. He said good luck in finding it. I wonder what's in it?"

"It's probably bare like the attic."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe not. Come on." He stood up and looked around the lounge. All the walls looked normal, without any slits. "_Alohomora_." He pointed his wand at the walls, but a door didn't open anywhere."

"This is going to end up pointless, isn't it?"

"Well, would you rather study more Defense?"

Ron shook his head. "Not at all."

"So, let's find that cellar." Harry walked into the dining room. "I bet there's a door behind these bookshelves. Let's try and move them, all right?"

Ron nodded. He lifted up his wand and pointed at the shelves. With help from Harry they moved all the shelves away from the wall. Low and behold, there was a door without a doorknob. Ron pointed his wand at the door and he and Harry watched as the door slowly slid open.

"Brilliant," Ron said.

"Let's go." Harry walked to the doorway. "_Lumos_." His wand lit up the stairs and he made his descent down them. Once at the bottom Harry looked at the walls for a light switch. He flipped it up and watched as lights from the ceiling lit up the room. "_Nox_." The light on his wand went out.

Three of the walls had floor to ceiling shelves, each shelf lined with bottles – bottles upon bottles. The fourth wall had heavy iron chains with hand and foot cuffs at the ends. Ron studied the fourth wall for a moment, but his attention was immediately drawn back to the bottles. They were all different shapes and sizes and colours. Ron picked up one that was curved and pink with the date 1497 written on the front underneath the words Merlot. Harry and Ron smiled at each other.

"Wicked," Ron said.

"I wonder if these are Remus' or if they belong to the Muggles that used to live here?" Harry mused.

"Dunno. Who cares? They won't notice if a bottle's gone, will they?"

Harry shook his head. "Doubt it. Besides, like you said, who cares?"

"I wonder if there's any firewhiskey or if it's all wine."

They looked around the shelves only to find them filled with red wines. They decided on an old bottle of merlot from 1298, which Ron told Harry was a good year for Wizard wine because it was during one of the many Goblin Revolutions and wine was scarce. They sat down on the old cellar stairs, leaning back. Ron popped open the wine bottle with his hand and took a sip.

"Not as bad as firewhiskey."

"I'd hope not," Harry replied, "seeing as how firewhiskey makes you feel like your throat is on fire."

"That's the best part of it though!"

Harry took the bottle and took a long drink from it. He wiped the corners of his mouth and handed the bottle back to Ron. "So, how're things with Hermione?"

"Fine."

"Haven't shagged her since Valentine's Day? That's rough."

Ron blushed. "We've only slept in the same room twice since she got the idea to learn how to become a bloody Animagus."

"I'm sorry."

Ron shrugged. "She got so obsessed with it, though, that she missed my birthday. Thanks, by the way, for making a cake. You're quite a woman in the kitchen."

"Piss off. But, thanks, though. It's too bad we couldn't have done something more interesting, but seeing as how we haven't been outside in weeks…"

"I know, I don't blame you for not having much of a birthday. Truth is, even at The Burrow birthdays were never too big. Christmas was the time for presents. Too many of us to make all nine birthdays spectacular."

Harry nodded. "I understand. I never had much of a birthday either. No one ever even sent me a card until I turned thirteen."

"That's rough, mate."

"Yeah. Maybe Hermione'll make it up to you. Shag you real good or something."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, right. It's bloody annoying, really, having a genius for a girlfriend. She forgets all about you and does nothing but read and taking notes. _Fucking _annoying, really, because there's been _no fucking_." Ron ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"Life could be worse. Just don't break things off with her while I have to live in the same house as the two of you."

Ron shook his head. "No, way. I'm not breaking anything off with her. I love her." Ron blushed at his admission.

Harry stayed silent.

"Hermione's going to kill me if she sees me drinking."

"By the time we're done, you won't care."

Ron laughed. "Let's hope so. I've only been drunk once – over the summer with Fred and George when Mum and Dad were at one of those secret Order meetings. They brought a huge bottle of firewhiskey. Then, they thought it was hilarious to drink all of the Hangover Potion and leave me with the empty bottle and having to explain to Mum why I was throwing up with a ghastly headache."

Harry laughed. "I bet your mum was in a right state that morning."

"She thought I had the flu. Only, when she gave me some tea for it it only made me sicker and she couldn't figure out why. She probably would have blamed Fred and George for it, though, since I was Head Boy."

"Yeah, how _did_ you manage to become Head Boy?"

"Hell if I know." Ron took a large swig from the bottle of wine. "Although, it did make Hermione right proud. No one else was going to be Head Girl other than her, of course, and we all knew it."

"You and Hermione are odd."

"Why?" Ron asked sharply, ready to be on the defensive.

"Like, yesterday afternoon she was reading in the dining room on the cushions and you passed her a new quill without looking up from your own book. How did you know she needed a quill?"

"Everyone notices shit like that. Fred and George hounded us over Christmas break about it. I don't know." Ron shrugged. "We just know each other really well."

"You two still bicker though."

"Not since she's tried to be an Animagus. She's had no time for me."

Harry was silent. They passed the bottle back and forth until it was empty. Ron picked up another one and popped out the cork with a wave of his wand. He handed it to Harry. They were both already feeling the dizzied buzz of being tipsy.

"I miss my parents, though, as crazy as that sounds," Ron said.

"Why? It's not as if you see them when you're at Hogwarts anyway."

"Yes, but, they owl me a lot. It's strange not talking to them. And it's even stranger knowing they're in another safe house somewhere with other members of the Order and I won't be able to see them until… Well, until you kill Voldemort, I reckon."

"Mmm." Harry looked at the bottle in his hand. Chianti. It was a bit too sweet – must have been a cheap Chianti. He handed it over to Ron. They were silent once again, the only sounds that could be heard were the quiet sipping of wine. Almost finished with the second bottle of wine, they heard footsteps coming down the stairs. They turned around quickly, ready to explain themselves to Hermione or Ginny, but instead saw the short blonde hair and pointed face of Draco Malfoy.

"What do you want?" Harry sneered.

Malfoy looked around the cellar. "A wine cellar? I didn't know the Werewolf had it in him." He took a bottle from of the shelves and opened it. He glanced at Ron and Harry. "Don't look at me like that. I live here as well, you know."

"Have a seat, then," Harry said, motioning with his hand to the bare floor in front of him and Ron. "After all, Lupin's been on our backs to make sure we don't alienate you."

"I alienate myself," Malfoy replied. "You two already drank that whole bottle?"

Harry held up the almost empty second bottle. "And this one as well."

"Your girlfriends are going to be angry when they see the two of you pissed."

"We'll worry about that later," Harry said. "What brings you to this house anyway? Weren't you a Death Eater or something?"

Malfoy scowled. "No. I wasn't. And if you really want to know, I shagged the wrong girl. Her parents weren't Death Eaters and it made the Dark Lord angry."

"Well, if _you_ shagged her, I'm guessing she was a Slytherin, then," Ron said.

Malfoy nodded. "Of course she was."

"Was it that Rebecca bird?" asked Harry.

Malfoy straightened up. "What do you know about Rebecca?"

"I dunno. We saw you with her is all."

"Ah. Well, yes, Rebecca. Mighty fine shag, if I do say so myself. Too bad, though, about her parents. Not that they were members of that bloody Order of the Phoenix, but they weren't Death Eaters and being a Death Eater is all that's important to the Dark Lord."

"Mighty fine shag?" Ron sniggered. "I'm sure you have loads of experience to compare her to." Ron hiccupped.

"More experience than you, I'm sure."

"Hey! I've had sex before!" Ron retorted.

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. Ron punched his arm.

"Yeah, with _Granger_?" Malfoy rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'm surprised she'd let you get within ten feet of her with your randy dick."

"Fuck you, Ferret Boy," Ron snapped. "You know nothin' about me and Hermione." His eyes narrowed at the boy and he realized Malfoy had drunk over half of the bottle already.

"You're right and I don't want to know anything." Malfoy turned to Harry and smiled slyly. "_You_ though… I bet you'd know a good fuck."

"Why's that?"

"Why? Potter, don't be so bloody thick. That Weasley girl looks like she could take a good forceful pounding. I bet she likes it rough."

Ron started to lunge at Malfoy, but Harry caught him by his shoulders and shoved him back down onto the steps.

"That's my sister you're talking about!" Ron cried out.

"Yeah, and my girlfriend," Harry said to Ron, "but killing him will do you no good. Besides, I don't know if you can justify killing him while under the influence of alcohol."

Ron crossed his arms over his chest and hiccupped. "Just watch what you say about my sister."

Malfoy finished his bottle of wine and threw it across the cellar. It hit the wall and bounced off, falling to the floor and rolling around. "Excellent. An unbreakable charm."

"Is that how Rebecca liked it? Rough with a good pounding?" Ron asked bitterly.

"No." Malfoy smiled. "She liked it slow and deep."

Harry made a face. "I really don't want to know what anyone else's sex life. I have enough issues with my own – I don't need to hear it from Malfoy as well."

"You have sex issues?" Ron grunted. "I'm sorry. Is my sister not good enough for you?"

"Your sister's fine," Malfoy muttered.

"What was that?" Ron asked.

Malfoy shook his head, not willing to repeat himself.

Harry wet his lips. "Lemme finish off that bottle." Harry took the bottle from Ron and drank the rest of the wine. He chucked the bottle against the wall and sniggered to himself as the bottle hit the wall and rolled around on the ground unbroken.

"Aren't you going to answer me?"

"No, Ron, I'm not. You're drunk and you're dangerous when you're drunk."

"Like you'd know."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "You tried to kill Malfoy already. And Malfoy's not going to stop you from killing me."

Ron looked away from Harry and hiccupped.

* * *

Up in the kitchen, Hermione and Ginny were having a discussion about sex as well. Their conversation, however, was more tasteful and less graphic than the drunken boys in the cellar.

"You haven't with my brother in, like, three weeks?"

Hermione shook her head. "A few times he's fallen asleep in my room. The Time Turner screwed with my sleep schedule. I don't know how many times I used that thing. It was worth it though – learning how to be an Animagus. I've just been too busy to pay Ron any attention."

"My brother requires a lot of attention."

Hermione nodded. "I know. I feel terrible, but this is more important than sex."

"Not to a boy."

"Well, perhaps not, I suppose."

"Hermione… I, er, hate to break the news to you. But, today is the fourth."

"Fourth what?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "March."

"So?"

"So, while you used the Time Turner and ignored us all – not that I'm mad, because I'm certainly not – you forgot all about first March."

"First March?" Hermione looked around the kitchen. "What… oh, no. I'm a terrible, terrible, _terrible_ person." She buried her head in her hands.

"Ron said he didn't mind that you forgot his birthday. Although, truth be told, I know he was disappointed. Just because he loves you and all that rubbish." Ginny smiled. "Although, it wasn't as if we were able to buy him presents anyway or anything. Although, Harry _did_ bake him a cake…" Ginny smiled. "He's full of surprises, that one. Did you know he could bake? Apparently the Dursleys made him do almost all the housework and he learnt to be bloody _brilliant_ in the kitchen. Anyway, I didn't want to upset you, I just wanted to make sure you knew that you forgot Ron's birthday."

"I feel awful," Hermione said, removing her hands from her face. "What am I suppose to do now?"

Ginny sniggered. "I'm sure you can figure out what my brother wants. He's a randy git, isn't he?"

"Bit randy, yes." Hermione blushed, deciding to change the subject. "How are things with Harry now?"

"Better – much better. Malfoy's stopped making me help him with that potion project so Harry's no longer jealous."

"Still can't tell me what this 'potion project' is?"

Ginny shook her head.

"All right," Hermione said, letting the matter drop. "Was Harry jealous or just angry you were spending time with his worst mate?"

"Both, I suppose. I think he might still be angry with me for not telling him what was happening – he knows I haven't told him the whole story, I can tell. He doesn't try to touch me and we hardly ever make love unless I initiate it."

"Talk to him."

Ginny made a face. "I don't know. You don't really _talk_ to Harry about some things. He'll get withdrawn and start to brood. I don't know how he stands brooding so bloody much. Seems like it would be emotionally exhausting." A loud _bang_ from downstairs made Ginny jump. "What _are_ they doing down there?" She and Hermione saw the open cellar door, but didn't want to disturb Harry and Ron because they knew the two of them hadn't had a lot of leisure time together.

"Well, I don't think they're playing chess…" Hermione shrugged.

"Hermione… How come the Death Eaters found Grimmauld Place? Wasn't it protected by the Fidelius Charm?"

"Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper. There must have been a lapse in time before a new Secret Keeper was appointed that the Death Eaters could have found out about Grimmauld Place. Honestly, though, and don't you dare tell Ronald this, I don't know the answer. I can't remember reading about what happens to the Charm if the Secret Keeper dies."

"Let's hope Professor Lupin stays out of harms way, then."

"Well," Hermione said, "one of the good things about being here is that except for Lupin and Tonks, none of us knows where we are."

"The Irish countryside—"

"There's a lot of Irish countryside. Even if the Charm was lifted, the house is still unplottable and we cannot be traced while in it. The Death Eaters would be hard pressed to find us if they didn't have a vague idea where we are."

"I've been trying to figure it out myself, but I can't. I don't hear the ocean – but that doesn't mean we aren't close. There hasn't been many rains or storms, though, from the ocean… Plus, there's only that one house way off in the distance. Everything is green and no one ever passes by the house. We're completely isolated."

"Which is exactly what the Order wants, I'm sure."

Ginny nodded in agreement. "…the _fuck_? That's the _third_ time I've heard something bang against the walls."

"Perhaps they're throwing Malfoy against the wall?"

"I wouldn't put it pass Harry or my brother to do just that." Ginny sighed and stood up. "All right, let's go see, then."

Hermione and Ginny walked through the kitchen to the dining room and carefully walked down the stairs. At the bottom they saw three very loud, very drunk boys. Ginny sighed. Ron looked just like Fred and George when they were pissed – which was fairly often – with his flushed cheeks and dopey look in his eyes. Harry looked mellow, his movements far too sinuous for him to be sober. Malfoy was howling with laughter at something Ron said, and knowing Malfoy he would never howl unless drunk.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and cleared her throat. Ron's head wheeled around and he smiled timidly up at his girlfriend.

"Hi, Hermy-own-ninny," Ron said.

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "Oh, for heaven's sake. There was obviously a reason why Professor Lupin put those shelves in front of the cellar door."

"Don't you wanna li'l drink?" Harry asked.

Ginny sniggered. "Yeah, right, Harry."

"Am I in trouble?" Ron inquired.

"Oh, yesh, lots of trouble," Malfoy said. "Might need to spank him."

Hermione ignored Malfoy. "The two of you know better than to get drunk."

"_They're _pissed," said Ron. "I'm just a wee bit squiffy." He hiccupped and began to laugh. Hermione scowled at him. "You're no fun."

"Fun? How is sitting around and getting drunk fun?"

"We're not just sitting around, Hermy-own-ninny! We've been telling secrets."

Ginny caught Malfoy's eye and frowned deeply. He smiled wickedly at her.

"It was my turn," he said. "I have a shecret about Ginny. Wanna hear it?"

Harry nodded. "I do."

"Malfoy, shut up."

"Oh, be a shport, Gin-_ev-_ra!"

"No, Malfoy! Shut up!"

Harry looked at Ginny skeptically. "What's he on about?"

"I'll tell you later," Ginny said. She looked at Malfoy, her eyes pleading for him to keep his mouth shut.

"Remember Tom Riddle, Potter?" Malfoy said.

Harry nodded.

Malfoy opened his mouth to continue but was stopped by Ron puking down the stairs. Ron held his tummy as red liquid and stomach acid poured out of his mouth, splashing against the wooden steps and cellar floor, staining Malfoy's jeans. Harry laughed and pulled himself up to a standing position, swaying lightly. He walked up a few steps away from Ron.

"Since he's _your_ boyfriend," Ginny said to Hermione, "I'll let you deal with… _that_."

Hermione nodded. "Right, then."

"I'll go whip up a Hangover Potion." Ginny sniggered again. "They're all gonna need it."

* * *

Hermione relaxed in the warm bath. She had vanished the vomit and used _Scourify_ to clean the stairs and the floor. She would have helped Malfoy as well but she left him to his own devices when he threw a nasty "Mudblood" out at her. Getting Ron upstairs to his bedroom was no easy feat. He kept wanting to touch her and would start laughing about Malfoy's stories about his ex-girlfriend. Then, he'd throw up again.

Finally, Hermione was able to get him into his room and make him take off his dirty clothes and get into bed. He fell asleep immediately – or, rather, he passed out. Hermione left one dose of the Hangover Potion Ginny made next to his bed, knowing Ron would recognize it immediately.

Ron had been asleep for well over an hour before Hermione decided to treat herself to a long bath. She brought along one of her Muggle novels to read and magicked the water to stay warm and steamy.

She was in the bath for almost three quarters of an hour when there was a knock on the door. Hermione quickly drew the shower curtain around the bathtub and cleared her throat.

"Yes?"

The doorknob jiggled but the door didn't open.

"Hermione…"

Hermione recognized Ron's voice. "Use your wand on the door, silly!"

She heard him mutter _Alohomora _and listened for the creak in the hinges as the door slowly swung open. Ron entered the room and closed the door behind him. He sat down on the toilet next to the tub and Hermione heard his fingers grasp the side of the shower curtain. Not wanting him to see her, she quickly stuck her head out from the side of the curtain and smiled.

"Hi, Ron."

Ron pulled back his hand and looked at Hermione. The ends of her hair were soaked from the bath water and her cheeks flushed from the heat. He swallowed against a lump in his throat.

"You found the Hangover Potion, then?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, thanks for making it."

"Thank Ginny, she brewed it. I just left it by your bed."

"Er…"

"Yes, Ron?"

"I'm sorry for getting pissed. I know you don't… approve… of drinking."

Hermione shrugged. "It's all right. I would really like to never clean up vomit after you again, if that's all right with you."

Ron blushed. "I made an arse of myself, I'm sure."

"No more than usual."

"Hey!"

Hermione giggled. "I'm just kidding." She looked at Ron, waiting for him to say something. "Was there something you wanted?"

"No. I just haven't seen you in so long if feels like. You've been shut up in your room for weeks and I miss you. What're you doing in there?"

"Taking a bath."

"For almost an hour?"

"And reading!"

"I should have guessed," Ron grumbled. "What are you reading?"

Hermione handed him her paperback book. Ron studied the cover.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing.

"That's a jet ski. Sort of like motorcycles for the ocean."

Ron raised his eyebrows, giving Hermione a look of pure bemusement. He opened up the book and skimmed a few lines. His eyes widened in shock. "Tripp did _what_ with his 'pulsating cock'?"

"Give me that back!" Hermione cried, snatching the book away from Ron.

Ron smiled. "Well, whatever he was doing with his 'massive pulsating cock' it must have hurt Hannah something fierce."

"Don't make fun of the characters in my romance novels."

"_That_ was romance?"

Hermione blushed.

"I'd give you romance, you know, if you ever lifted your head out of your bloody books."

"Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry I haven't been around. But, you have to understand how important it is for Harry to learn how to become an Animagus—"

"I know it's important. I just miss my girlfriend, really."

Hermione frowned. "And I'm a _terrible_ girlfriend for forgetting your birthday. I'm really sorry."

"It's all right."

"It's _not_ all right. How do you want me to make it up to you?" Hermione asked, expecting Ron to give her a very simple answer.

"Hmmm. First, you have to stop hiding behind this ruddy shower curtain."

"But… I'm naked, Ron!"

"I've seen you starkers plenty of times before now and you missed my birthday by four days. You owe me big and you know it."

Hermione swallowed. "All right, then."

Ron moved the shower curtain back. His eyes raked over Hermione's naked body underneath the water, first settling on her breasts, and then on the small patch of hair between her thighs, before returning his eyes back to her face. She blushed.

"_God_, I've missed you," Ron said huskily. He knelt down by the side of the bathtub and pulled Hermione towards him, giving her an almost bruising kiss. He pulled away and smoothed all the hair away from her face. He moved in to kiss her again, this time more softly, but Hermione squirmed away.

"At least let me get out of the bath before you attack me," she said sternly, but her eyes twinkled.

"No, I like you all wet. It's sexy."

"Well, you're going to end up all wet as well if you don't stop. If you haven't noticed this bathtub isn't big enough for two of us."

Ron looked at the tub and nodded. "You're right."

"So, how about I finish my bath and _then_ you can attack me again?"

Ron nodded. "Yes, yes, sounds like a brilliant plan." Ron stood up, but instead of walking out of the door, he sat back down on the toilet, leaning over, resting his chin in his hands, his elbows set securely on his knees.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"You missed my birthday. I get to watch."

"But, it's not very interesting watching me take a bath."

"It's _always_ interesting watching my girlfriend starkers. You should never put on clothes again. Can that be my birthday present?"

"No."

"Damn."

Hermione smiled. She didn't mind the way Ron looked at her. In fact, the way his breath grew shallow and his eyes dark turned her on.

"But, I suppose I can make my bath more interesting."

"Yeah? How's that?"

Hermione's smile widened. Remembering what Ron said once about one of the sexiest things a girl doing was touching herself, Hermione opened up her knees and let her hand travel to the curls between her legs. She closed her eyes, too embarrassed at what she was doing to look at Ron, but she knew she was doing something right when she heard Ron take in a sharp breath and groan.

* * *

Harry drank the Hangover Potion, immediately feeling all signs of drunkenness fade away. He smiled at Ginny and reached across the kitchen table and grabbed her hand.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"It was a nice change of pace… getting pissed."

"Able to take your mind off of Voldemort?" Ginny asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, actually. All we talked about down there was girls and sex." Harry blushed. "Not detailed… I mean, your brother was _right there_. Never-mind."

"It's all right. Anything to keep you thinking about Voldemort and that whole mess." Ginny gave Harry's hand a squeeze.

"Gin, what was Malfoy on about down there? About a secret you had?"

Ginny pulled her hand away from Harry's. She sat back in her chair and sighed. "I knew I was going to have to tell you sooner or later. I've been awful to keep this a secret from you. But, before I tell you, you must promise not to say anything to Hermione or my brother. I don't want them worrying about me."

"You think they'll worry? What is it, Gin? You've already got me worried now."

"Promise, Harry."

Harry nodded. "I promise, I promise. Tell me."

"Draco knows my secret because his father knew all about the powers of the diary—"

"Tom Riddle's diary."

"Yes." It almost came out like a whisper from Ginny's mouth. "He knows what happens when you are possessed by a diary and a memory. Draco knows the lasting effects."

"Which are?"

"The memory of Tom – that possessed me – is etched onto my soul forever. A bit of me _is_ Tom. When I try to make a decision or contemplate something, I can hear his voice as if it's my own voice in my head. Right after the Chamber I would hear Tom in my head still and it took me a long time to shake his voice out of my brain and think for myself."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Well, you know how I used to take my brothers' brooms and practice Quidditch when they weren't paying attention to me? I'd be flying and Tom would tell me to break the brooms or fall off or something and I'd be in the middle of doing it before realizing that it was wrong and I shouldn't." Ginny swallowed. "It's what happens with possession spells… part of you is always possessed… forever."

Harry watched as a tear fell from Ginny's eye. He got up and walked around the table and sat in the chair next to her. He took back her hands. "It's not so bad. It's not your fault."

"I thought you'd hate me."

"Why would I hate you?"

"Because I'm a part of Voldemort. I'm evil."

Harry shook his head. "Oh, Gin, why do you think you're evil? You're not. Shit. Come here." Harry brought Ginny in his arms and held her close. "You are so much like me, it's almost amusing. Remember fifth year? I thought everyone was going to blame me for your father being in St. Mungo's because I saw it. I thought you lot were going to think I was evil as well. But, _you_ were the one that reminded me that you understood what I was feeling because you had been possessed by Voldemort before. You should have told me this. I would've understood."

"I didn't want you to be angry."

"Why would I be angry?"

"Because! Because, Harry, a part of Voldemort lives _inside_ of me. I can hear him talking to me and he never goes away. I thought if you knew I was part… evil… that you wouldn't want to love me anymore."

Harry kissed Ginny's neck. "I don't care about that. I don't care that you can still hear him because it doesn't make you evil. I wish I could take it away and I would if I could, but it doesn't make me love you any less."

"It didn't help that Draco knew about it. He told me he'd tell you if I didn't help him brew some bloody potion. That's why I was always in his room. I suppose he's not _all_ bad now. We've talked a lot, actually, but he's still a git. He knew how hopelessly in love I was with you and used that against me. But, it's all right now, isn't it? You know and nothing's changed, right?"

"No, Gin, nothing's changed." Harry pushed her back slightly so he could bend his head down and kiss her mouth. It was a gentle kiss and Harry could taste salt on her lips from her tears. "Hey, stop crying. Do you want something to eat? I'll make you whatever you want. I'm a bit hungry myself."

Ginny sniffled and smiled at Harry. "I'm glad you decided you fancied me. I was tired of wanting you all to myself for six years."

Harry blushed. "I can't imagine I'm so desirable that anyone would wait that long for me."

"I would. I would always wait for you."

* * *

Ron's mouth gaped open. After a few minutes he couldn't take it any longer. He grabbed one of the towels from the shelf above the toilet and threw it around Hermione as he picked her up from the bathtub. She cried out in surprise, but Ron held on to her as he took her down the hall and opened her door, and flung her on the bed. He quickly turned around and shut her door, locking it and silencing the room.

Just as quickly Ron stripped down and crawled on top of Hermione, kissing her breasts. "Please tell me we can have sex."

"You don't have to ask for permission anymore," Hermione said. "Unless I say no, of course."

Ron looked up at her, his eyes hungry. "Are you going to say no this time?"

Hermione shook her head.

Ron worked quickly, forgetting all about foreplay. Hermione already made him hard from her display in the bathroom. He couldn't believe his girlfriend fingered herself for his enjoyment. She should forget his birthday more often.

Once Ron was inside of her he immediately forgave her for working during his birthday. What he had told Harry was the truth – he loved her. It was simple. If she missed a hundred of his birthdays he'd still love her. And the feel of her surrounding him, hot and snug, was enough to make his heart explode.

* * *

With the end of March coming to a rapid close, things went back to semi-normal. Lupin and Tonks popped in everyday to check on the progress of Harry and Ron learning to be Aniamgi. Malfoy had even grown bold enough to venture from his room and watch, fascinated, as Hermione turned herself into a mink and back again. He sat with Ginny, neither of them talking, both of them bored when Harry, Ron, and Hermione bickered over the difficulty of transforming – which happened often.

One Sunday Tonks watched as Ron's fingernails turned to claws and his hair lengthened. Then, he stopped transforming. Ron stomped his foot like a small child and groaned.

"How come I can't fucking do it? This is bloody ridiculous."

"Ron!" Hermione said sharply. "Watch your language! And I _told_ you it was difficult. Don't lose your temper every time you run into trouble with it. You'll get it."

"He's learning it quicker than I am," Harry grumbled. "I haven't transfigured so much as a finger. Maybe I'm not meant to be an Animagus."

"Your dad was one, though," Ron said, "so, I'm sure you'll get it."

"If Ron can do it, you can do it, Harry," Hermione said encouragingly.

"Right."

"Then, again," Ron said cheekily, "I _am_ Head Boy and probably smarter than you so of course it'll come naturally to me."

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron's heavy sarcasm. "We all know you're really a thick git and only got to be Head Boy because you copied Hermione's essays."

Ron went to smack Harry upside the head. He forgot that his hands were still claws and a chunk of Harry's hair got caught in them as Ron pulled his hand away. Harry cried out in pain, touching the bald spot on his head.

"FUCK!" he yelled. "That _hurt_! What's your bloody problem?"

Ron quickly transformed back into being fully human. "I'm sorry, Harry! I forgot my fingers still had claws!"

"FUCK!" Harry yelled again, clutching his head. "Now I'm missing half my hair!"

Ron looked guiltily at the clump of hair in his hand. He dropped it to the floor.

Tonks went over to Harry. "Let me see."

"NO."

"Harry!" Tonks scolded. "Let me see."

Reluctantly Harry withdrew his hand from his head. Tonks gasped and took a step back from him.

"What?" Harry asked, alarmed. "What!"

Ginny jumped up from her seat on the floor and ran over to Harry. Hermione and Ron were right behind her. They all gave similar gasps as Tonks.

Tonks composed herself. "Harry, it seems as if you're not missing any hair."

Harry's hand flew back to his head. The bald spot was indeed gone and long hair replaced it. "I don't understand."

"Have you ever done that sort of thing before?" Tonks asked carefully.

Harry thought. "Well, once my Aunt Petunia gave me the most horrible haircut because of how my hair never stays down and always sticks up all over the place. It grew back to it's normal length when I woke up the next morning."

"Anything else?"

"Um… not with my hair."

"With what, then?"

Harry thought a moment. "Well, once my aunt made me help her in the garden and I didn't have any sun block so I turned red as a tomato and everyone at school made fun of me but by the time first hour was over my skin had returned to its normal colour."

Tonks nodded. "Interesting."

"But, that's because weird stuff always happened to me 'cause I didn't know I was a wizard. Now, I have spells to do that stuff. Right?"

Tonks narrowed her eyes in thought. "You know, Harry, I don't think you're cut out to be an Animagus."

"Oh, gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Tonks," Harry said bitterly.

Tonks held up her hands. "I mean because I think you're meant to be a Metamorphmagus instead."

* * *

**To Be Continued…  
**

**A/N: Wow, that took a long time to update (5 days!!!) and I apologize. I wanted to get the chapter up ASAP so I didn't edit it once. But, your reviews said you'd rather have a chapter of mistakes and in order for me to edit it... it woudl have taken even longer to get it updated.  
**

**So, now we know Ginny's secret.  
**

**And, damn if Hermione didn't prove she was meant to be a mink all along.  
**

**Review!  
**


	31. Chapter Thirty One

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Harry shook his head. "No. No way."

Tonks scrunched up her face. "What do you mean 'no?'"

"I mean, _no_." Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "First you tell me I can kill Voldemort with some love sacrifice, so fine, I believe you and I fall in love and have sex and do all the stuff you lot tell me I need to do. That doesn't work. _Then_ Hermione comes up with some brilliant plan that sounds more complicated than getting an O in Potions where I have to become an Animagus to dodge the Killing Curse and draw Voldemort's blood and then transform back into human form and stab him with Gryffindor's sword – _which_ by the way, I don't have. And _NOW_ it's that I'm a bloody Metamorphmagus?"

"Harry," Hermione said, "calm down."

"No, _you_ calm down. None of this makes any sense. I'm right tired of this shit. I asked you in fifth year, Tonks, about being a Metamorphmagus and you never gave any indication that I might be one."

"That was before I saw you grow your hair back."

"So? I've always done wandless magic when I get hacked off enough. I blew up my aunt once when I was thirteen."

"But, you changed your appearance, love. Why do you think your hair grew back?" Tonks asked lightly.

"Because I was mad and I didn't want a bald spot."

"Exactly."

"What do you mean 'exactly'?"

"You didn't want a bald spot so you made your hair grow. Simple."

Harry shook his head. "No. There have been plenty of times when I didn't want this bloody scar either and it's always been there no matter how mad I've gotten."

Hermione grimaced. "Harry, you can't make your scar go away."

"Why not?"

"Because. That's what Voldemort left behind when he marked you as his equal. It's not an ordinary scar, which has been proven time and time again when it hurts or prickles when you see something from Voldemort."

Harry frowned. "All right, look – I'm tired of plans changing and I'm tired of not knowing what I'm suppose to do to kill Voldemort. The prophecy said that I had a power the Dark Lord knew not of and that both of us couldn't live – one of us _has_ to die. You figure out exactly what the power is – and I mean, _exactly_ – and how I can be the one of us who lives, then you come and find me. Until then, I'm done learning how to be a bloody damned Animagus or a Metamorphamus. I'm done with all of this."

Everyone in the dining room watched Harry march out, hearing each distinct stomp as he clomped up the stairs, and, finally, jumping at the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut.

"Er, that didn't go so well, did it?" Tonks asked.

Ginny sighed. "I'll go talk to him," she said, slowly making her way out of the room.

* * *

Ginny quietly opened the door to Harry's room and slipped inside. He was lying on his stomach on his bed, his face buried in a pillow. Ginny crossed the room to his bed and climbed on top of the blankets. Harry scooted over towards the other side of the bed to give her room. She sat next to him, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Are you all right?" she asked, although it came out almost as a whisper.

Harry turned his head to look at her, but kept half his face buried in the pillow. "No. I'm so tired of hearing about all these different plans. I want to know _exactly_ what I have to do to defeat Voldemort and just do it. I'm tired, Gin. I'm tired of all of this. I'm tired of this house and I'm tired of this war and I'm tired of this bloody scar and all it entails."

"I know you are. You're not sleeping well again."

"I know. It's 'cause I'm so bloody agitated all the time. I want to know the _exact_ answer. I don't want to play guessing games any longer. I wish someone else could kill him for me so I could go back to The Burrow and stay there. Your mum always told me I could come and live there after Hogwarts."

Ginny nodded. "Yes. We would want you there."

"Gin?"

"Yes?"

"Do you still think we're not going to be together forever?"

Ginny gulped. "Er, it's just silly women's intuition, Harry. Like you said… I could be wrong."

"Well, will you please promise not to leave until after the Final Battle? I can't destroy Voldemort without you… I know I can't."

Ginny scooted her body down and laid next to Harry. She pushed his black hair away from his forehead and traced her finger along his lightening shaped scar. She smiled and nodded.

"I won't leave you, I promise."

* * *

Tonks looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione. "I really didn't mean to upset him. I shouldn't have said anything at all!"

Hermione shook her head. "It wasn't your fault. Harry has a lot on his shoulders and we're all used to see him lash out at us. He'll brood for a while and not talk, but he'll eventually pull out of his mood. He always does."

"Ginny'll talk to him," said Ron. "Harry talks to her when he won't talk to anyone else." He ran his fingers through his long hair. "I don't know how much good it does Harry to be a Metamorphmagus – if that's what he is."

"He'd have to learn how to control his powers," Tonks said. "It's useful, though, when you want to disguise yourself."

"How is he suppose to draw Voldemort's blood now? Is he suppose to just stab him with that sword?" asked Ron. "And then use all _that_ blood once his body's dead?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, no. The spell only kills a soul when that soul is still in a body."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning we can't kill Voldemort's body until his soul is dead. Meaning we have to do the potion first."

Ron threw up his hands in exasperation. "Then, what the bloody hell are we going to do if Harry can't learn to be an Animagus?"

"You can always do it," Hermione whispered. "You're already learning how to Transfigure yourself now…"

Ron's entire body stiffened and he clinched his fists nervously. "I can always do it?"

"Once Harry weakens Voldemort enough with his mental powers – which he still needs to hone – you can, well, _attack_ him. Your animal has claws; we've all seen that. You'll be able to draw blood easily. Then, I can take the blood and finish the potion. It's really quite simple."

Ron frowned. "All right. I always wanted to be a hero."

Hermione looked at him with sad eyes. She didn't address the sardonic tone in his voice but nodded instead. "I know you'll do it."

"There is no other choice," Ron snapped. "It's either let all my friends and family be killed or possibly die trying to protect them." His voice lowered. "We'd all make the same choice."

"You Gryffindors are so bloody _noble_," Malfoy said.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron said.

"You are forgetting one thing."

"What's that?" Ron asked, turning around to face Malfoy. He wasn't in the mood to play games with the Slytherin boy.

"You can't defeat Voldemort until you know what that bloody Power is."

"What _are_ you on about?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and stood up. "Look, I don't really want to help and I certainly don't want to fight in some 'Final Battle' between 'Good and Evil' but since I'm here I might as well amuse myself. So, I'll tell you this – from what I know and from what Potter just said, the only way to defeat Voldemort is using a 'power that the Dark Lord knows not.' Or, whatever Potter said."

"Do you know what the power is, then?"

Malfoy shook his head. "No, and neither does the Dark Lord. I'm guessing that was going to be your next question, Weasel? The Dark Lord knows there's some power that Potter has and he's scared of it. he won't admit it but he's sent too many Death Eaters to try and find out all about Potter's powers and abilities to not be afraid of it."

"The power has to be Harry's mental stuff. Like, at the Department of Mysteries how he sent out that wave of energy or emotion or whatever," Ron said. "No one else has that power, right?"

Malfoy shook his head. "The Dark Lord can do that. He can do almost any kind of wandless magic. He's the most powerful Wizard of the age."

"Why didn't he use it at the Department, then?" Ron asked.

"He didn't have time, did he?" Hermione said. "Besides, Voldemort knows Harry has strong mental powers because he was able to learn Occlumency to keep Voldemort out of his mind."

Ron didn't say anything; he only shrugged.

"I don't know how we're suppose to figure out what this power is, though," Hermione said, although more to herself than anyone else.

"Eep."

The three teens turned their heads and looked at Tonks, eyebrows raised at the noise she just made. Tonks turned red.

"Tonks," Hermione said slowly and smoothly, "do _you_ know what Harry's power is?"

Tonks shook her head. "Of course not."

"Does _anyone_ know what Harry's power is?"

"Er…"

"Nymphadora Tonks, you must tell us!" Hermione cried. "Who knows?"

Tonks shook her head. "No one knows. And if someone _did_ know, they wouldn't be allowed to tell you about it."

Hermione paced back and forth in the dining room, thinking. She barely noticed when Tonks excused herself from the room and left. Malfoy, looking increasingly bored, also left. Hermione kept pacing until, finally, after about ten minutes she stalked out of the dining room and went into the lounge. Ron groaned, but followed her.

Hermione marched up to Tonks, who was sitting on the couch. "Why couldn't someone tell us about the power? Is it a secret?"

"Of course it is."

"But, that doesn't mean that someone doesn't know exactly what it is, right?"

"Er, I suppose."

Hermione wet her lips. "Could anyone find out what it was, if they knew where to look or what to look for?"

"No."

"No? No, no one could, or no, not just anyone could?"

Tonks looked away. "I don't like this. I'm not saying anything else."

"But, someone in particular could find out about the power?"

Tonks' eyes flickered towards Hermione before looking away.

Hermione began to pace again. It was exhausting to watch her think, almost able to see the wheels turning inside her head. Ron sat down in one of the blue overstuffed chairs and watched her.

"Could they find out if a Secret Keeper told them?"

Tonks' eyes remained focused on the fireplace. She didn't even blink.

"All right, then, so knowledge of the power isn't kept secret by the Fidelius Charm." Hermione's lips curled into a smile. "So, is there another prophecy, then?"

_CRACK!_

Tonks sighed deeply and smiled as Lupin appeared in the lounge.

"Thought I'd just drop in and say hello," Lupin said. He looked around the room. "Where's Harry and Ginny?"

Ron nodded his head towards the stairs. "Up there. And don't ask me what they're doing because at this point I don't want to think about it."

Lupin nodded. "Understood." He looked at Tonks. "Hello."

"Hi," she said, almost shyly.

"Right, then," Hermione interrupted, "Tonks was just going to tell us about the power that can destroy Voldemort."

"Oh, she was, was she?" Lupin said with a rather amused tone in his voice.

"I suspect there's a prophecy about it. That's why not just anyone can find out what power it is, but _some_ people can – the people who the prophecy is written about. Like, Harry."

Lupin clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "I daresay you really _are_ the cleverest Witch of all of Hogwarts. And, _unfortunately_, you are correct in your assumption that there is another prophecy surrounding Harry and Voldemort."

"Why unfortunately?"

"Because you cannot get to the prophecy since you are here and the prophecy is in the Ministry." Lupin went and leisurely sat down next to Tonks. "If we could get the prophecy we would, but as no one who is an official member of the Order has their name on the prophecy we don't know what it says. And _furthermore_, we don't know for a fact that it surrounds the power that Harry has that Voldemort doesn't know about. We can only assume it."

Ron rubbed his eyes. He knew he wasn't completely unclever but sometimes he really just did not understand things. "How can you assume it?"

"Well, you know how the first prophecy goes, right?"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, the gist of it."

Lupin cleared his throat. "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_"

Ron nodded. "All right, then. So, how do you know the other prophecy isn't about who lives in the end? How do you know it doesn't say Voldemort is going to be the one to die?"

"Because, there are other names on the prophecy," Lupin answered, "and while one of them is Harry, none of the others are Tom Riddle or Lord Voldemort."

"What are the other names?" Hermione asked excitedly.

Lupin shook his head. "I can't tell you that. McGonagall would have my head. No."

"McGonagall?" Ron asked.

"She's the new Head of the Order," Hermione answered. "She took over after Dumbledore…"

"Ah. When was this prophecy made?" Ron asked. "And who made it?"

"Professor Trelawney. She made the first one, what, eighteen years ago or so? She made this last one right before the Christmas holiday."

Hermione furrowed her brow, deep in thought. "How did you know it was a real prophecy?"

"_I_ didn't hear it. And she didn't remember saying it, of course. Dumbledore did." Lupin cleared his throat again. "The day before you lot went to the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore had only just got through with the Department, making another prophecy orb, and didn't have time to record his memory in his pensive – McGonagall looked. She didn't want to, however she knew the importance of finding out what the prophecy said. But, Dumbledore was killed before he could record his thoughts."

Hermione sat down in the other blue chair, her hands folded in her lap. "So, why didn't any of you have Harry go to the Ministry to get the prophecy?"

"Because," Lupin said, "even if you have a prophecy about you you're not allowed to walk in there and pick it up and smash it."

"Why not?" Ron asked.

"Ministry Rules," answered Tonks. "The Department of Mysteries is Off-Limits."

"What's the point of having the ruddy prophecies then?"

"We're not Unspeakables. We don't know."

Ron frowned. "I don't like this. This is _stupid_. All of this. I'm on Harry's side – this is tiring. There are too many twists and turns and loopholes with killing Voldemort. You can't just kill his body, you also have to kill his soul. None of it makes sense. I thought it was all over when he went through the veil. I'm really glad to have Harry back, don't get me wrong, but it would have been easier if Voldemort had just stayed on the other side."

"It wasn't their destiny to die on that day," Tonks said, "so it's not surprising they were able to be brought back."

Hermione grimaced. She didn't like the notions of destiny or fate or any of that rubbish. It hit too close to the Divination line and she wasn't about to approve of anything related to that barmy subject.

Tonks turned to Lupin. "Harry grew his hair back today. Ron accidentally tore a chunk of hair off Harry's scalp, leaving him with a bit of a bald spot—"

"Did you two get into a fight?" Lupin asked, looking over at Ron.

Ron shook his head. "No, I was trying to turn into an Animagus, but so far I've only been able to grow claws on my fingers. Oh, and most recently my hair's begun to lengthen a bit. But, I went to hit Harry upside the head because he made a shirty comment and I forgot I still had claws…"

Tonks nodded. "Yes, quite right! But, Remus, he grew his hair back. He changed his appearance. He said it wasn't the first time."

"So, you think he could be a Metamorphmagus?"

Tonks nodded again. "Yes, I do! At first you can't control your powers. Blimey, I'd wake up and have a bad hair day so I'd accidentally change it completely. Once my mother figured out what I was, she was able to help me train and control myself. It wasn't _too_ difficult."

"So, what's the new plan if Harry can't fight Voldemort as an Animagus?"

"It's rather simple, really," Hermione replied rather smugly. "If Harry can weaken Voldemort with his mental powers long enough for Ron to transform into his animal – which, we don't know what it is, but has claws – then Ron can fight Voldemort and draw blood. I can, then, take the blood and do the potion, say the incantation. Mixing the last ingredient and the incantation shouldn't take more than a minute. Then, Harry can use the sword. Last year we learnt that the Half-Blood Prince, Godric, was able to defeat Slytherin with his sword. There hasn't been a more evil Wizard _since_ Slytherin until now so I'm confident that the sword will be strong enough with Old Magic to kill Voldemort's body."

Lupin nodded. "I see."

"I suppose there is still the problem of not knowing what this power of Harry's is."

Lupin and Tonks exchanged glances. At that moment Harry reappeared walking down the stairs. The look on his face was still very grave. Ginny was at his heels.

"I thought I heard your voice," Harry said to Lupin.

"We were just talking about Volde—"

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to hear it. Really."

Lupin nodded. "All right."

Harry shoved his hands into his jeans pocket. "I saw the ring on her finger today."

Tonks looked down at her hand. "It _is_ rather nice."

Ginny, Ron, and Hermione all looked at Tonks' hand. On her ring finger was a small silver band with a single clear diamond that caught the light just right.

"Brilliant," Ginny whispered.

"It had to be a magically charmed ring," Lupin said, "otherwise Tonks would have surely broken it _somehow_ by now."

Harry sniggered. "I bet. When did you get married?"

"Valentine's Day," Tonks said dreamily.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowing just a bit.

"He's a bloke just like you and Ron," Tonks answered, laughing. "Since you aren't sending owls to one another Remus claimed it was hard to tell you face to face."

Harry looked at Lupin, his eyebrows raised.

"We _can_ use owls," Ginny said. "Hedwig and Pig are here."

"They're only supposed to be used in an emergency," Lupin replied. "You know that. And, Harry, I apologize for not telling you."

"I think it's exciting!" Ginny exclaimed. "Are you going to move here after the school term is over?"

"Yes," Lupin said. "And then we can keep an eye out for you _all_ the time."

Harry laughed. "God, this house will be filled with too many hormones. We're all gonna go barmy if you two live here as well."

"It's better than Grimmauld Place," Lupin said matter of factly.

"Except it's not there any longer," Harry noted. "Death Eaters took care of that, didn't they?"

The room was quiet. Harry swallowed and looked over at Ginny who scowled at him playfully. He tried to manage a small smile.

"Hopefully, the Final Battle will have been fought by the end of the school term, though, right?" Harry asked. "Then you can move in here and start doing the family thing without the five of us in your hair."

Tonks and Lupin exchanged another glance.

"Unless you started already?" Harry asked.

Lupin shook his head. "No, no. Not yet…" His voice trailed off.

"How much money does an Auror make?" Ron asked.

Everyone turned to look at him. Ron blushed.

"Why do you ask?" Tonks inquired.

"Ron, that's really none of your business," Hermione hissed. "And completely off the subject."

"I was just wondering in case I decided I wanted to go through Auror training."

"You don't get paid during training, but the pay afterwards is decent enough. I was able to pay for my flat in London and support myself. I couldn't support two people, though. Aurors don't make enough for that. Senior Aurors maybe, but I'm so young still…"

"How did you buy the house, then?" Ron asked, "if you still have your flat in London as well?"

Lupin blushed. "I wish I could say we bought it with my salary from Hogwarts, but seeing as how we got this house before I started work there… No, if you really want to know that badly… Sirius left all his possessions and money to Harry and me in his will. I used some of that money for this house. We were able to buy furniture and try to make it into some semblance of a home. The bedrooms upstairs weren't made until we thought we might have to use it as a safe house. Obviously we wouldn't have just made five bedrooms if we didn't think there'd be that many people living here."

"Did you buy all that wine in the cellar?" Ron couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, "you are so inappropriate."

"No, it's all right. We took that wine from Grimmauld Place, actually." Lupin laughed. "I see you found the cellar, then, obviously. I'm sure you're wondering about the wall?"

Harry nodded. "Actually, I was curious why there were chains on it."

"In case the Wolfbane potion ever stops working – in case I ever build up a tolerance to it. Right now when I transform during the full moon Tonks can stay with me and I'm just like a passive dog. If the potion ever stopped working I can go down there and not be a threat to my… family. Do you have any more questions about my personal life, Ron?"

Ron blushed. "No, sir."

"I'm glad to hear that you have begun the process of becoming an Animagus. I'm sure your animal will be a good one. But, now, I'm starved. Who would like to make me dinner?" Lupin smiled.

"I'll do it," Ginny said. "I haven't made dinner for everyone in a while and I'm sure it's my turn."

They all began to file into the kitchen. Hermione caught Harry's arm before he was able to leave the lounge. She shot Ron a look that told him to continue on to the kitchen with his sister, Lupin, and Tonks.

"What's up?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione's hand on his arm.

She pulled her hand away and looked at him. "I know you don't want to hear this, _but_ something very, very important happened while you were upstairs."

"If this is about Voldemort it's really going to hack me off, you know."

Hermione nodded. "I know, but it's important."

"How important?"

"There's another prophecy in the Department of Mysteries with your name on it and the names of some other people that the Order believes is about the power that can be used to destroy Voldemort," Hermione said bluntly.

Harry was still. He looked away from Hermione and rubbed his temple, fighting away a headache. "All right, you've got my attention. What other names are on it?"

"Professor Lupin didn't say. Dumbledore heard it before he died. It was only made into a sphere before… before you went through the veil. Since the only people who can actually touch the prophecies are the people they are about, you _have_ to get it and bring it back here and smash it so we can learn what the power is."

Harry listened to Hermione very carefully. He nodded. "I see. And we don't know who else the prophecy is about so I'm the only one who can go and get it."

"Right."

"Hermione, you're so clever."

"Er… thanks."

Harry rolled his eyes. "But, how am I suppose to go to the Department of Mysteries? How am I suppose to leave from here, go to London, go to the Department, get the prophecy, and come back without anyone seeing me? Without a Death Eater seeing me?"

"You get Tonks to teach you how to manipulate your appearance so no one will recognize you."

Harry pointed to his forehead. "Scar! I can't ever get rid of this scar."

Hermione shrugged. "Change your appearance so your hair covers it or something. Then, you can Apparate to the Ministry."

"We can't Apparate in and out of this house."

"There's a door," Hermione said. "You have two feet. You can walk and find the nearest village. No one will know who you are, you'll look completely different. You'll have to go at night again, when all the Unspeakables have gone home. Once you get the prophecy you can come back here."

Harry still looked sceptical.

"Don't you see, Harry?" Hermione asked, her voice becoming higher. "Once we understand what this power you have is that can destroy Voldemort we'll be able to fully hone my plan perfectly so that there will be _no _doubt whether or not it will work. We'll be able to do the potion and use the sword effectively so that you _will_ live and the Wizarding world will no longer be at war."

Harry swallowed, still taking everything Hermione said in.

"I know it's a lot to think about and you're tired of thinking. But, what do you say, Harry? Will you learn to control your Metamorphmagus abilities to do this? To get the second prophecy?"

**To Be Continued…**

* * *

A/N: Another unedited chapter down... and more to come... eep!  



	32. Chapter Thirty Two

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Harry emerged from his shower hot and wet. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back to his room, careful not to walk over the floorboards that creaked in case Ron and Hermione were sleeping in the room next to Harry's. Since the embarrassment of learning that Harry had heard them on Valentine's Day, Ron and Hermione had been good about putting up silencing charms around their rooms. Harry could never tell any more if they sleeping or shagging.

Shutting his door quietly behind him, Harry went to his night table and felt around for where he left his glasses earlier before he had retreated to the loo.

"Harry?"

Harry jumped back in surprise. The Muggle lamp next to his bed turned on and he saw the smallest Weasley sitting crossed legged on his bed. She smiled shyly and mutter and apology.

"You could have turned on the light before now, you know," Harry said, clutching at his chest, feeling his racing heart beneath his palm. "Scared me half to death."

"I'll remember not to do that twice, then."

Harry gave her a reproachful look at her very bad joke. "Did you need something?"

"Hermione told me about asking you to leave the safe house to go nick the prophecy."

"Right. And?"

"And I thought you might like to talk about it."

Harry shook his head. "I'd rather not think about it right now."

"All right, then. I won't mention it again." Ginny's eyes flickered down to Harry's towel. "Are you naked under there?"

Harry blushed. "Of course I am."

"Can I see?"

"No."

Ginny pouted. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"No."

"Aw, why not?"

Harry sat down on the bed next to Ginny, a bit of water dripping hitting her knee from his wet hair. "What do you think I should do about the prophecy?"

"I didn't think you wanted to talk about it?"

"I don't. I was just curious what _you _would do if you were me."

"But, I'm not you."

"Pretend."

Ginny's nostrils flared as she inhaled a deep breath through her nose. "Well, I suppose I'd do it. That way I would know the power I had that could be used to defeat Tom – er, Voldemort. Then, I'd make sure I kicked Voldemort's arse with it."

Harry nodded. "That's what I thought you'd say." He sighed. "I have a secret, Gin."

"Oh? What is it?"

"It's a very, very private secret."

Ginny looked into Harry's green eyes. They were still and dark, almost foreboding. She swallowed. "What is it?" she asked again.

"I'm terrified."

"Of what?"

Harry looked away from Ginny. "Of dying again."

"Oh, Harry, I'm sure you'll be all right."

"I'm more terrified that you'll be taken again – or Ron or Hermione – and this time I won't be able to save you. I'm so sick of dealing with everything and I want it to be over."

"I know you do. I'm so sorry you have to deal with all of this."

"And I'm afraid that if I kill him I'll be no better than him – a murderer."

Ginny winced. "That's not true. He kills people out of hate and spite. You'd be destroying evil and saving lives."

"And killing a man."

Ginny brushed Harry's black hair away from his forehead and traced his scar with her middle finger gently. "He's not a man anymore. He was one when he was Tom, but he hasn't been Tom for quite some time." Ginny paused. Changing the subject she asked, "Do you really think you're a Metamorphmagus? Or do you think it's just a bit more of wandless magic that you seem to be very capable of doing?"

"I seem to be able to do Summoning and Banishing Charms very easily, but other wandless magic, like shields, are difficult for me. But, this wasn't just wandless magic so yes… I think I am a Metamorphmagus."

Ginny appeared surprised at Harry's answer. "Really? Why?"

"Telling you why would be revealing another secret."

"You can trust me, you know you can."

Harry nodded. "Everyone says I look exactly like my father. When I was born I had black hair, hazelish eyes, and a thinish face just like him. My Aunt Petunia had me clean the attic one summer and I found a box of photographs of her family from when she was a child. I didn't know what my parents looked like back then. I had never seen them before. So, I saw a photo of my mother and her thick red hair and smiling mouth and green eyes and I _longed_ to know her. I wanted to look like her or think like her or something because I had no connection to my parents. They were literally dead to me in every sense of the word – no one would talk to me about them. I was only told they died in a car crash and they were 'weird' and thrown out of the family."

Ginny brushed her thumb across Harry's cheek encouragingly.

"Aunt Petunia saw me looking at the picture and ordered me to throw them all away. She watched me for the rest of the day to make sure I didn't sneak out to the rubbish bins and find the photo and keep it. Once the rubbish was collected and gone I was sent to my cupboard and I wasn't allowed out except for dinners for a week and I was never allowed to clean the attic again."

"Why?"

"Because after seeing my mum's photo my eyes changed from hazely green to bright, full green."

* * *

"You push Harry too much," Ron hissed at Hermione from his seat on his bed. They were careful to keep their voices low so Harry wouldn't hear them bickering through the walls.

"Push him? I only told him about there being a second prophecy. How are we going to find out what the power is if we can't get it?"

"I don't know, but Harry's going to start brooding and pulling away from us like he did in fifth and sixth year. After Sirius died all he did was shut himself in his room at Grimmauld Place and never come out. You kept pushing him to talk about it and all he did was retreat further and further into that room of his. Which, by the way, was suppose to be _my_ room as well, only he would lock himself in there."

"I _know_, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "I was there, too, remember? He's the only one who can get the prophecy. The rest of us can't change our appearance except into an animal and even if an animal could get to the prophecies we couldn't get it unless our names were on it. And we only know for sure that it's about Harry."

"Just, don't bring it up again. Harry'll give you an answer about training with Tonks to learn to control his Metamorph-thing when he's ready. I don't want to lose my best mate again in the way I did in the past." Ron took Hermione's hands in his. "Please?"

Hermione sighed. She leaned her forehead against the orange of Ron's Chudley Cannons t-shirt as Ron's arms encircled her. She sighed heavily again. "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

"You know you don't have to ask."

"Right." Hermione pulled back and stood up. "I'm going to get my pajamas. I'll be back." She left quietly.

Ron laid back on his bed, his hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. The last thing he wanted was for Harry to pull away from them again – which the black haired boy was very good at doing. Even though Hermione had nothing but good intentions, she sometimes pushed too hard. While Ron would always yell at her and they would bicker, Harry would withdraw further into himself. Ron would never admit it to Hermione – she was right too often as it was – but he agreed with her and secretly hoped that Harry would use Tonks to learn to be apt at being a Metamorphmagus and be able to sneak into the Ministry of Magic undetected. Then they could all put this Voldemort drama behind them and go on with their lives.

Ah, the future. Ron couldn't help the smile that crept across his face. He tried to stray away from thoughts of being alone, Voldemort having killed Harry or Hermione or both. Instead, he imagined how the summer would be with Harry and Hermione both at The Burrow, going swimming in the nearby lake, playing Quidditch in the backyard, and de-gnoming the garden. Soon Auror training would begin and Ron would go off to the Ministry with Harry – if Harry still wanted to be an Auror, that is. Ron figured that even if his NEWTs weren't great (if he got to take the NEWTs) he helped fight Voldemort so many times there was no way the Ministry wouldn't accept his Auror application. Three years of training would put him at the good age of twenty-one, which was a perfect age to get a flat in London with Harry or Hermione.

Ron's pulse quickened a bit at that last thought. He knew Hermione would never allow herself to move into the same flat as her boyfriend. Knowing Hermione she would have a really successful job doing something great and making lots of money where she could get a flat on her own. That was all right as well; the way they bickered they'd need their separate space.

Somewhere along the timeline, although Ron wasn't sure exactly where, there'd be a marriage – small wedding, nothing fancy, because Hermione wasn't that type of girl to want to be the center of attention for hundreds of guests – and small Ron-Hermione hybrids with bright red hair and noses made to be stuck in books.

In the middle of Ron's thoughts Hermione appeared back in his room. She closed the door, muttering the usual silencing and locking charms, and took off her robe and climbed in Ron's bed next to him wearing naught but an oversized t-shirt. Ron turned his head and looked at her and cocked up an eyebrow.

"Is that one of my shirts?"

Hermione nodded.

"I've been wondering where that shirt's been! I let you borrow it over the summer when you were too lazy to do a drying spell on yours."

"That's because you pushed me in the lake, Ronald! And I didn't have my wand on me."

"You should _always_ have your wand on you," said Ron sternly.

"You stole it!"

Ron sniggered. "Oh, yeah, I forgot. That was clever of me."

"So, since my clothes were wet you gave me your shirt to wear back to the house. I just kept it."

"Convenient."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, very. I hope you don't mind." She bit her lip.

Ron's eyes grazed over her from head to foot. "It looks better on you."

"That's because it's an old Cannons shirt; orange isn't really your colour…"

"I know. It's the bloody hair – red hair's a bit of a pain."

Hermione reached out and ran her fingers over his mane of red locks. "I think it's lovely, especially now that it's long and shaggy. You know, if you were to look in Muggle magazines you would notice that hair like yours is really stylish."

"Oh, and you know me – always wanting to be in style."

Hermione smiled. "It was one of the reasons Lavender liked you, you know. I often heard her and Parvati talk about your hair."

"I don't know why."

"You're not a lanky little kid anymore, Ron. Of course girls are going to talk about you."

"Just wish they didn't have to be slags like Lavender." Ron sighed and was quiet after that.

"What are you thinking about?"

"What'll happen after the final battle with Voldemort."

"Oh? What about it?"

Ron shrugged. "What this summer will be like at The Burrow with you and Harry there. Then, what Auror training will be like if I get in. What my first flat will look like. Things like that."

"Good things, then."

"Very good things."

"Do you think about me?" Hermione asked shyly.

"You?"

"Yes, me. Do you think about me after the final battle?"

"Ah." Ron rolled over to his side to face Hermione. He brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Tell me," whispered Hermione.

"I think about you and… flats… rings… marriage… kids…"

Hermione blushed. "Do you really?"

Ron nodded. "It's stupid, really. I don't know why I do it," he said, suddenly very embarrassed. He tried, but he couldn't look away from Hermione's eyes and his blush grew deeper.

"It's not stupid. I think about those things as well… when I'm not busy thinking about how we could all die. Thinking about… those things… make me happy, though." She smiled and scooted as close to Ron as she could. "But, that still doesn't mean I want seven children like your mother!" she added hastily.

Ron laughed.

"_Especially_ if any of them turn out to be like the twins."

"If, er, _we_ have kids they'll all have red hair."

"Who else am I going to have kids with?" Hermione asked almost indignantly. "Harry?"

The smile faded from Ron's face quickly. "No, not Harry. I think I might actually kill myself if I ever saw you bonking my best mate."

"Anyway… So, an Auror? That's really dangerous work; you can't trust anybody. Look how Mad-Eye Moody turned out: lost an eye and got a chunk taken out of his nose."

"Plus he's right mental."

"He's just eccentric."

"Or just right mental."

"Or just right mental," Hermione conceded, not wanting to bicker again that night.

Ron opened his mouth to protest – he didn't like being placated – but Hermione silenced him with a kiss. Well, if he was going to be placated, then that was his favorite way to do it.

* * *

Draco paced around his bedroom. He watched the Weasley girl go into Potter's room earlier and felt the hair on his arms rise. Hatred for Potter fed him like nothing else could. Everything in his life was in shambles. His father was a wanted criminal. His mother was held up in St. Mungo's loony ward. He was wanted dead or alive – preferably dead, and he knew it – by the Dark Lord. His girl was a Mudblood. Draco shuttered at the thought again.

"Fucking Mudbloods," he muttered to himself, shoving his hands deep within the pockets of his trousers. He was a traitor to himself and his pure blood family. It was no wonder the Dark Lord wanted him dead. He betrayed them all by sleeping with someone with a tainted lineage.

_But, they're all not like Granger._

Draco blanched at the thought. He hadn't meant to compare Rebecca to Granger. They were two completely different people. Granger was a know-it-all who fancied herself more clever and a better witch than pure bloods. She had frizzy hair and her bottom lip was too full for the top one and, until she tricked Madam Pomfrey, she had ugly buck teeth. Rebecca was completely different. She didn't have to continually have her nose in a book all the time to be head of her year and she never bored you to death with speeches about equally for creatures that, quite frankly, had no business being equal to Wizards. Her hair was smooth and her teeth were normal and her lips – well, her lips were fantastic.

"Goddamn it."

Draco flopped down on his bed, hands still in his pockets. He couldn't stand himself when he thought about Rebecca. He became a love sick oaf like Potter – and he hated Potter. He _needed_ to hate Potter or else he'd go mental moping around about Rebecca. She should have written him back saying she hated him, that he was a terrible person, and that she never wanted to see him again. Instead, she wrote him beautiful words that made him hate her and love her even more.

She _understood_. She understood the way he was raised and the type of person his father was. She understood why he cut her lose, saying he hated her when he found out she was half Muggle. She understood that by being put in Slytherin he would have assumed she was a pure blood like the rest of them. She understood every goddamned thing. Draco wished she could have just went on hating him, instead of writing him, telling him that she missed him and forgave him.

He loved her for it – her heart was huge and she was good people.

He hated her for it – it made him want her even more but she was forbidden fruit and he couldn't allow himself another taste.

Down the hall Ginny and Harry both laughed. Draco could hear their muffled mirth and hated them for it. This house was too much. If they had to stay there until after the term when that werewolf professor and his dinky wife came to live, he would surely kill himself or everybody else. Too many happy couples. It was unnatural.

Draco stood up from his bed and opened his door. He walked through the corridor, down the stairs, and went into the dining room, moving the bookshelves with his wand so he could get to the cellar door. If he was going be forced to listen to happy people all around him, he was at least going to drown them out with wine.

* * *

Harry sat on the windowsill in the lounge several days later. The sky was a perfect blue and the clouds all floated slowly by; it was a picturesque child's faery tale kind of day. Everything outside looked perfect.

"What's up, mate?" Ron asked, entering the room.

"Looking outside. It would be a really good day for Quidditch."

Ron stood behind Harry and looked out the window. "I agree. I've never stayed indoors for so long. I scarcely remember what fresh air smells like."

Harry inhaled deeply as if trying to remember. "Yeah…" He glanced behind his shoulder at the much taller red headed boy. "Tell Hermione to stop fretting over the bloody prophecy. I already talked to Tonks."

"All right, mate."

"It's not that I don't want to learn how to be a Metamorphmagus or what have you. I'm just tired of always having to be the one who puts his life on the line for Voldemort."

"We all fight with you, Harry," Ron replied. "All our lives are on the line."

"Sure," said Harry, "but you have a choice. I don't. If you hadn't gone with me to get the Philosopher's Stone and everything after that, then chances are Voldemort wouldn't be after you today. If _I _hadn't gone to get the Philosopher's Stone and everything after that he'd still be after me because of the prophecy – I don't have a choice." Harry sighed, his eyes following the movement of the clouds outside. "And I'm tired of not having a choice."

"I'm sorry, mate," Ron said.

Harry shrugged. "Not your fault. Hermione's good with feelings and all that rubbish. She'd probably understand."

"Why don't you tell her? She thinks you're mad at her for pushing you too hard."

"_She_ thinks she pushed me too hard or you told her she pushed me too hard?"

Ron sniggered. "I told her."

"Figured as much. Things still good with her?"

"Yes."

"Get laid again?"

The back of Ron's neck grew red. "Er, well, yes. Loads of times."

"Good for you – and thanks for remembering to always put up silencing charms around your rooms. It's been a sleep-saver."

Ron snorted. "Right. I'd ask about your sex life, but since it's with my sister, I don't want to know."

"That's all right. We're not really the type like Seamus to tell everyone about the girls we've bonked, anyway."

"Right. Do you don't suppose Ginny and Hermione tell each other stuff, do you?"

"Girls talk a lot."

"I don't think I fancy my sister knowing about what Hermione and I do."

"I don't think I fancy Hermione knowing what your sister and I do!" Harry said with a laugh. "Somehow, I think if Hermione really did know she wouldn't be able to look me in the eye."

"Harry!" Ron cried. "Don't say shite like that."

"Sorry," Harry murmured.

"Er, well, Hermione's been on my back about not having studied enough of Potions for the NEWTs. I'm still hoping we get to skip them, but she won't… Well, she's giving me a good reason to study for them so I might as well do it."

"Right," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, your Head Boy. You have to live up to your name. How many NEWTs did Percy get?"

"Bloody git. Nine or ten or something. I won't get as many as him. He got twelve OWLs. I only got seven."

"Right."

"Er, anyway, come study with us if you want – Hermione informed me that in order to become an Auror you have to get an O in Potions."

"I think I'll just sit here for a while. I'm right sick of meandering around my bedroom."

Ron nodded. "Right, then."

Harry heard Ron walk out of the lounge. Almost immediately he felt soft, warm arms wrap around his neck. He breathed in a flowery scent and smiled.

"Ginny."

The girl smiled against his neck. "Are we just quietly watching the clouds, then?"

"Yeah."

"All right." Ginny hugged him a bit tighter and watched the sky through the lounge window with Harry. She sensed he needed quiet time for his thoughts so she didn't utter a sound.

* * *

Ron left Harry in the lounge and went to the dining room where Hermione was sitting on the floor with a small cauldron in front of her. She had conjured up a fire underneath the black metal and the smell emitted from its smoke was almost deathly. The book open in front of Hermione was none other than their seventh year Potions book, but what she could be brewing, Ron had no idea.

"It's a Perceptive Potion," Hermione said without lifting her head.

Ron sat down on the other side of the cauldron across from her and peered inside. The liquid was thick and orange and bubbly. "Gross."

"Exactly," replied Hermione.

"What do you mean, 'exactly?'"

"Your perception of Potions is one of disdain, therefore when you encounter this potion in a Potions-like setting you find it repulsive."

"Potions-like setting?"

Hermione looked up from the cauldron. "Yes. You came into the room while I was studying Potions and you hate Potions so it smelled bad to you. Let's say you were to hate Herbology. If I covered the most beautiful rose with this potion you would see it as an ugly wilted flower because of your perception of Herbology. Make sense?"

"Not really."

"Well, if I were to make Malfoy shower with this stuff you'd look at him and see him as a hideous looking monster instead of a normal looking blonde haired boy."

"Brilliant," Ron breathed. "Let's try that."

"For heaven's sake, Ron, we're not going to bathe Malfoy in a Perception Potion."

Ron peered over the side of the cauldron again. "It looks really gross. Is it hard to make?"

"Yes. It's from our Potions book – which is an Advanced book and right on NEWT level. I wouldn't be surprised if it's not on the written portion of the exam. You should read about all their qualities since you won't be able to cheat off my paper."

"Ah, I wouldn't cheat on my NEWTs."

"Of course you would if the quills weren't charmed with an anti-cheating spell."

Ron shrugged. "You always said NEWTs were important. I'd do my best to pass and if that means cheating then so be it!"

"Doing your best is _studying_. Besides, I _just_ told you that it's impossible to cheat on the NEWTs." Hermione closed her book. "Well, it's finished. The book said that it should be 'a thick orange matter which strongly resembles goo.'"

"Well, it certainly looks like goo to me. Good job."

"Erm, thanks. What should we try it on?"

"Malfoy."

"_Ron_!"

"_Hermione_!" mimicked Ron.

Her eyes narrowed at him and Ron flashed her a lopsided grin. "Well, I suppose I can just keep it until I think of something. It should stay good for a while." Hermione pushed the Potions book towards Ron. "Why don't you try to brew something? It'll really help you with your NEWTs."

Ron made a face.

"Come on, study! For me?"

"I dunno…"

"We can make a game out of it."

Ron's ears perked up at the sound of that. "A game?"

"Sure. For every Potion you can correctly identify and give the properties of, I'll snog you for one minute."

"You'd snog me anyway."

"Wait, listen!" Hermione snapped. "And for every ten minutes of snogging you accumulate, I'll…"

"Shag me?"

"No, but I'll do something for you – touch you or, erm, something." Hermione blushed.

"What do I get if I answer everything you throw at me correctly?"

Hermione smiled. She leaned over the cauldron and whispered into Ron's ear. His eyes grew large and his mouth slowly gaped open.

"You can't be serious," Ron said when Hermione sat back down.

"Why not? If you don't want me to, just say so, Ronald."

Ron shook his head. "No, no, don't get hasty! I never said I didn't want you to do it."

"Are you going to study?"

Ron sniggered. "Are you kidding? _Definitely_."

* * *

The next day Harry began his training with Tonks. He knew Ron told Hermione about him agreeing to train with Tonks by the way she smiled at him during the dinner Ginny made. They all took turns making dinner – except Ron. They deemed his food inedible and banished him from the kitchen. Harry's mind was on food as Tonks told him steps to clearing his mind enough to concentrate on changing an aspect of his appearance. She stopped mid-sentence when his stomach gave a loud rumble.

"Didn't you eat breakfast?"

"Yes."

"I thought Ron was the one with the loud stomach."

"He is. I don't know. Changing my hair colour made me hungry."

Tonks' eyes flew up to Harry's head. He had the same length and style but his usual black hair was now blonde. "You kind look like Draco," Tonks mused.

Harry grimaced. He concentrated very hard, closing his eyes, and felt his scalp prickle, his hair standing on end. He opened his eyes and smiled at Tonks. "Now I look like you!"

Indeed, Harry's hair was almost the same blue colour as Tonks'. She laughed.

"Good show, Harry! Can you do the same thing you were doing before, but change the length? Remember to take a deep breath _in_ before you change. When you want to go back to what you normally look like, you let the breath _out_."

"What do you normally look like?" asked Harry.

Never taking her eyes off Harry Tonks' spikey blue hair transformed into a long mane of shiny black silk. Her eyes went from blue to brown, her nose thinned, and her lips filled and reddened.

"Wow," Harry breathed. "You're so… different."

"Ugly?"

Harry shook his head. "Not at all. Why don't you go around looking like that all the time?"

Tonks shrugged. "More fun my way."

Harry's eyes flickered all over Tonks' face. She indeed looked much, much different. She wasn't exactly pretty but Harry thought her very attractive. He wondered what Remus thought about the way his wife looked normally.

As if to answer his thoughts, Tonks told him, "Since the end of Hogwarts, only you, Remus, and my mother have seen me like this. I don't always make myself beautiful when I morph, but there's something really neat about everyone staring at you when you enter a room because your hair's blue."

Harry nodded. "Sure."

"Now," Tonks instructed, "make your hair long."

Harry grumbled but closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and breathed in deep. He felt his scalp itch and it felt as though his hair was growing at a rapid rate from his head. When he opened his eyes Tonks was smiling.

"Good job, love! Hair and eyes are the easiest to change. We'll have to work on facial features next time. The shape of the nose can be a bit tricky."

"Can we change our bodies? Like, can I make myself taller or fatter?"

Tonks smirked. "No. Although, you can change the shape of your body. Remember when I made myself look like an old woman? I was hunched over and all that? I looked shorter because some of my body mass moved around to give me a lump on my back and the like. But, you cannot add on weight or height unless it's by redistributing what you already have."

"Oh."

"You're nowhere near being able to do that yet. You caught onto the hair real quick. Good show! A bit more practice and then we'll break for lunch."

* * *

By the end of the week Harry was able to change his hair and eye colour and the shape of his nose. Tonks never asked _why_ he wanted to train with her – she wasn't sure how it would be helpful in the final battle, but she nevertheless helped him to learn.

Hermione was very satisfied with Harry's progress and even expressed her delight over breakfast one morning.

"Soon you'll be able to go the Ministry and no one will know it's you."

"How's he going to get to the Department of Mysteries?" Ginny asked, swallowing her mouthful of eggs. "I didn't think anyone was allowed there?"

"He has the Invisibility Cloak, of course," said Hermione. "I have confidence he'll be able to do it." She looked at Harry meaningfully before focusing back on buttering her toast.

"Thanks."

"When do you think you'll be able to go?" asked Ron.

"Dunno. Soon, I think. I've been trying to get Tonks to skip the lessons on changing my chin and forehead and get her to teach me how to age myself."

"You can't learn yourself?" Ron seemed bewildered. "I would've figured you could do that…"

"No, there's certain things you have to think about when you want to change certain parts of your body. It all has to be done individually. Tonks said once I get really good at it I can do it all in a matter of seconds. I'm not at that point yet. But, I figured if I can get my hair long enough to cover my scar and change my nose and age my skin, then if anyone sees me at the Ministry they won't know it's me. I can't use the Invisibility Cloak to get into the Ministry since they set up those new Anti-Apparition charms all around – I'll have to use the phone booth and I can't be invisible there. But no more than people will be seeing me before I throw on the cloak no one should recognize me."

"I hardly recognized you when you made your nose all crooked and gave yourself blonde hair," Ginny said. "I think you'll be just fine."

"As long as Moody isn't there," Ron said absentmindedly.

Hermione dropped her knife and Harry paled.

"What?" asked Ron.

"Mad-Eye would be able to tell who I really was," Harry said softly. "That magic eye can see through an Invisibility Cloak and probably through Metamorphmagus transformations as well."

"I know," said Ron. "That's why I said that about Moody!"

Ginny tapped her fork against her teeth in thought. "Hmmm. Why would he be at the Ministry? He's no longer an Auror. I doubt he would have any business there…"

"Unless he's there to visit Dad," Ron said.

"Does Dad still go to work?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. He uses a special portkey, Lupin said, to get from his safe house to work."

"How come you know everything?" Ginny asked.

Hermione reddened. "I don't know everything. I just listen, really."

Ginny shrugged. "I still think you know everything."

Ron handed Hermione the pitcher of pumpkin juice and she refilled her mug. Ginny narrowed her eyes at the sight and looked to Harry who also noticed.

"You two are so weird," Harry commented. "How did you know her mug was empty?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. We've been through this loads of times before."

"Right." Still shaking his head, Harry finished eating the eggs on his plate.

"I've been reading the _Daily Prophet_ when Lupin brings them to me," Hermione said, "and there's attacks on Muggle families with magical children and half-bloods and half-breeds almost daily. Soon, there's not going to be any 'tainted blood' left! We really need to stop Voldemort," Hermione added quietly.

Harry chose not to respond, but stuff a forkful off eggs in his mouth instead. He felt Ginny reach over her place a hand on his jean covered thigh. She smiled at him over the rim of her mug as she took a sip of pumpkin juice. A loud _CRACK!_ from the other room caused her to choke slightly on her juice.

"Tonks," Hermione murmured as the sound of something breaking echoed all the way into the kitchen.

Harry stood up. "Right. I'll see you guys at lunch." He disappeared into the lounge to meet Tonks. The two of them usually disappeared into the cellar to do their lessons because no one disturbed them down there and the thick walls and ceiling muffled the footsteps overhead when Harry needed silence to concentrate. Today, he hoped, he'd finally be able to talk to Tonks into teaching him what to do to age his skin.

* * *

"Wow," Hermione breathed. She reached out and touched Harry's face. "It feels just like skin."

"That's because it _is_ skin," Harry snapped.

"I wish you'd stop snapping at me!"

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry." He paced around his small bedroom, not meeting the eyes of Ron, Hermione, or Ginny. "It's nice to be able to change my appearance, but I'm not really… happy about going to the Ministry. I don't want to do this."

"Harry, you don't have—"

But, he interrupted Hermione. "I meant, I don't want to do any of this – any of this stuff with Voldemort. I'm right sick of it! I know I repeat myself every day but I want a normal life." Harry stopped pacing and looked in the mirror. His hair was auburn, long, with gray streaks. His eyes were also gray and looked almost lifeless. His skin had the wrinkles of a very old thirty-year-old man who had lived a tough life. "I don't look like me, do I?"

Ginny shook her head. "Not at all! Especially if you walk with that limp like you were before. You'll be perfect today. I know you'll be able to fool everyone and get that prophecy."

"As long as Mad-Eye's not there," Harry mused.

Ginny glanced at Ron and Hermione. "Will you two excuse us for a minute?"

Hermione tugged on Ron's sleeve to get him to get up and go. They walked out of the room, Ron starting another row with his girlfriend in the hallway. Ginny giggled at them as the door closed. She walked up behind Harry, looking at him through the mirror.

"I'm going to worry all day long until you come back here."

"Yeah?"

Ginny nodded. "Be careful. _Please_ be careful." She wrapped her arms around Harry's middle. "I don't want to lose you again."

"No one's going to recognize me. As soon as I leave the Atrium I'll slip on the cloak and be in and out of the Department of Mysteries in ten minutes flat. Honest."

"Liar."

"Well, maybe eleven minutes."

Ginny smiled up at him. He bent his head down and kissed her mouth softly.

"You're not going to lose me again. Worry for my life when I'm battling Voldemort, all right?"

Ginny nodded. "All right."

"And I'll be careful. If anyone comes after me I'll just change my appearance and head them off."

Ginny swallowed against a lump in her throat. "I don't care, Harry, as long as you get back here safely!"

"All right, all right. Come on, I need to get going. I don't know how far away from the house I'll be able to walk before I can safely Apparate."

Harry took Ginny's hand in his and left the room. He didn't let go of her until he was standing at the door to the outside in the kitchen. Ron and Hermione hung back in the doorway, waiting for Harry to finish his good-bye to Ginny before saying theirs.

Ron looked away as Harry pressed his mouth to Ginny's and cleared his throat loudly. "Don't get yourself killed," Ron said, still studying the wall next to him instead of Harry.

"Oh, honestly, Ron!" Hermione cried. "But, yes, Harry, do be careful."

"Don't worry. I'll be all right."

Harry let go of Ginny's hand and took a deep breath. He flattened his auburn and gray hair over his scar and opened the door. It was warm outside, the air fresh and clean with a hint of salt. Harry smiled as he walked through the grass and towards the horizon. After about two hundred meters of bright green grass, Harry stopped and turned around and looked at the house. He could still see the distant images of his friends watching him from the kitchen window. With a loud _CRACK!_ Harry Apparated.

Opening his eyes, Harry found himself standing next to the phone booth in the middle of London. Brilliant. He couldn't help but smile. The phone booth was still as cramped as ever as he stepped in and punched 6-2-4-4-2 on the phone. His pulse quickened when he realized he had forgotten to come up with a fake name to use – after all he very well couldn't say his name was Harry Potter!

"Er, Neville Longbottom."

Harry used the name once before when he didn't want anyone knowing who he was and it was the first name he thought of this time. When the name tag popped out, Harry looked at it and almost laughed.

NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM: WANDERER

Harry hadn't been able to come up with a good excuse for _why_ he was at the Ministry either. The witch on the other end of the phone didn't seem to care, though, and the phone booth began to slowly descend. His pulse increasingly quickened every few seconds. Instinctively, Harry touched his stomach where his Invisibility Cloak was folded underneath his shirt – giving him the look of an overweight man.

The Atrium was deserted, much to Harry's surprise, and he waited patiently as his wand was inspected. When it was handed back to him, Harry snatched it and all but ran from the Atrium to the nearest lift. No one was inside and he slipped the cloak from under his shirt, putting it over him until he was completely invisible. The lift continued to descend to Level Nine. When the doors opened, Harry was faced by a single door at the end of a short corridor. Taking a deep breath, he left the lift and went to the door.

Harry waited. He couldn't very well open the door himself – the Unspeakables would surely notice the door leading to their department opening as if on its own accord. Harry shifted back and forth on his feet, growing weary at the long wait. After nearly half an hour a small witch opened the door and walked out. Harry was just able to slip inside the closing door.

He had revisited the Department of Mysteries so many times in his dreams he felt like he knew the level like the back of his hand. He knew which corridors to take and which corners to turn at in order to find the corridor lined with the prophecies.

The glass orbs all shone down on him and Harry couldn't help but read the names on some of them. He didn't know any of the witches or wizards they were about. Towards the end of the row Harry slowed down, looking for his name. He found where the first prophecy had been made, only there wasn't an orb over it. No, that one had been successfully smashed.

Harry's eyes slid all over the remaining names until he found the next one with his. His heart almost completely stopped as he read the list of names underneath his.

HERMIONE GRANGER  
REBECCA HARRIS  
DRACO MALFOY  
HARRY POTTER  
GINEVRA WEASLEY  
RONALD WEASLEY

Harry's mouth felt like it was full of cotton, his tongue sticky against the roof of his mouth. Looking behind him to make sure no one was there, Harry grabbed the prophecy and stuffed it in the pocket of the cloak. Alarms went off. The sounds reverberated around the room while lights flashed and a flock of witches and wizards came running in.

Harry quickly ran towards them, dodging them the best he could, one hand clutching the cloak to keep it on his head, the other holding the pocket where the prophecy was resting. He stopped caring about whether anyone saw doors open and close by themselves; most of the people on Level Nine where probably focusing on the alarms and not random doors.

Still unable to breathe normally, Harry tried to calm himself down when the doors to the lift opened and he jumped inside. The lift ascended and opened up to the Atrium. Harry ran through the Atrium and into the phone booth to take him back to the London street. He still wasn't calmed and decided to walk a ways down the sidewalk to calm his nerves. Who would have thought there were alarms on the prophecies?

Once his heart was beating at a more normalized pace, Harry closed his eyes and thought of the nice patch of grass in front of Lupin's house. With that picture in his mind, he Apparated with a _CRACK!_ and found himself looking at the quaint little house of his professor. The sky was darkening; Harry didn't realize he had been gone for so long. He watched the house, seeing people move in the kitchen. It must be near dinner, he concluded.

Harry removed the cloak and focused on changing his appearance back to normal as his legs took him towards the kitchen door. He opened it and watched three hopeful faces turn and watch him enter the house.

Ginny ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so glad you're all right!" she cried. "We've been worrying all day about you!"

Ron was seated in front of a plate heaping with food, but his hands were on either side of the dish, and he was staring at Harry, waiting. Hermione was doing the same, but looking like she was going to lose control of her bodily functions if Harry didn't tell them what happened soon.

Reaching into the cloak pocket, Harry retrieved the orb and placed it on the center of the table.

* * *

**To Be Continued…  
**

**A/N: And another unedited chapter down! I hope there's not too many mistakes!!! I would have updated sooner but Hurriance Ivan decided to knock out my power for 3 full days...  
**

**To answer a few questions brought up in reviews...  
**

**1. This story isn't going to be too much longer. I won't say an exact chapter number but I seriously doubt it will be over 40.  
**

**2. I haven't forgotten about the fluff. The plot has just gotten in the way of it. But, look forward to details about Hermione's little "Potions Game" with Ron.  
**

**3. No, there will be no elaboration on why Ginny doesn't think she and Harry will be together forever. As the story said, she's not a Seer or anything. She's just a girl who has strong intuition and she's listening to what her gut instinct is telling her. Is she wrong? Well, I know the answer to that, but I'm not going to let you in on the secret.  
**

We're at 473 reviews. That's excellent! If you make it to 500 reviews I'll definitely post Chapter 33. 


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

"Wait," Hermione said, "I'll be right back." She dashed off up the stairs to her room. When she came back down she had a quill, an ink bottle, and a thick stack of parchment. She sat down at the kitchen table and looked at Harry. "I want to copy down what the prophecy says. Once its broken we can only hear it once."

Harry nodded. His hands were shaking as he picked up the orb again. "Ready?"

Everyone nodded and watched as Harry dropped the prophecy on the floor.

"_The time to defeat the Dark Lord body and soul draws near… In the Final Battle the Dark Lord fights a hexad where blood will be spilt and one will be permanently left behind… Lives will be sacrificed, saved, and altered… If the hexad shies itself by one the Dark Lord will prevail and the time to defeat him will be lost forever… The hexad must fight together… One who is marked as the Dark Lord's equal… One who turned his back on the Dark Lord… One with the heart of Gryffindor… One with sevenfold the cunning of all the Founders… One with the heart to keep the Equal alive… One with the power to keep the Traitor in line… The time to defeat the Dark Lord body and soul draws near…_"

Ginny sank into a chair, clutching her t-shirt right above her left breast. Harry quickly sat down next to her and took her hand.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his eyes full of concern.

"Fine," she whispered. Then, she broke out into a huge smile. "Harry, you do realize what the prophecy said, right?"

Harry looked at Hermione. "I don't know… Am I thick? I didn't really get all of it."

"If you're thick, I'm thick," said Ron, "because I didn't understand it either."

Hermione read over her parchment several times before folding her hands on the table and looking up at Harry. "Were there other names on the prophecy?"

"Yes."

"It would help if you tell me who they are."

Harry cleared his throat and Hermione picked up her quill, ready to copy down the names.

"The names were in alphabetical order, actually. Rebecca Harris, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ginevra Weasley, and Ronald Weasley."

Hermione set the quill down again, refolding her hands. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it before saying anything.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked.

"Nothing."

"Do you understand the prophecy?"

"Yes."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Will you explain it, _please_?"

"Well…" Hermione started. "Ginny's right in being overwhelmed and excited – the prophecy said Harry _will_ defeat Voldemort if, and only if, a complete hexad fights him. I assume the hexad is the six of us whose names were on the prophecy."

"What's a hexad?" Harry asked.

"A group of six."

"Are you sure it's us?" asked Ron.

"Well, the prophecy listed the group. Shall I go through each one?"

Ron nodded. "Please do."

"Well, it said 'One who is marked as the Dark Lord's equal.'"

"That's easy," said Ron. "That's you, Harry."

Harry nodded and touched his scar. "Definitely me."

Hermione looked down at the parchment. "The next is 'One who turned his back on the Dark Lord.'"

"Well, that's Draco," said Ginny. "We never had the chance to turn our back on Voldemort because we were never on his side to begin with."

Hermione nodded. "The next is 'One with the heart of Gryffindor.'"

Ron shrugged. "It could be any of us, couldn't it?"

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head. "Actually, I think it's you, Ron."

"Me? How do I have the heart of Gryffindor?"

"Well… What about your animal? Your Animagus animal?"

Ginny's ears perked up. "Ron! You can turn into your animal now? Without being human at all?"

Ron's ears turned red. "Yes."

"What animal are you? Show us!" Ginny's excitement could barely be withheld. Her eyes danced wildly as she look at her brother.

"Er," said Ron, "maybe some other time. I still don't know why I'm the one who's got the heart of Gryffindor."

"You're brave and you stand up for your friends and you're not afraid to fight against evil. You're everything that it means to be in the Gryffindor House," answered Hermione.

"Yeah, but we're all in Gryffindor," Ron interjected.

"Well, the next is 'One with sevenfold the cunning of all the Founders.' Not to be bold… but I think that one is me," Hermione said. "Because the next after that is 'One with the heart to keep the Equal alive. That has to be Ginny. If anyone has the heart to keep Harry in check and focused it's Ginny," Hermione added quickly. "Besides, and I could be bold in saying this as well, but if Harry's going to stay alive it'll be for Ginny…"

Harry and Ginny looked at one another and both blushed.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Ginny said, returning her eyes to the bushy haired girl. "I think you have the cunning of the Founders of Hogwarts as well."

"Who is the last one about, then?" asked Ron.

Hermione read from the parchment, "'One with the power to keep the Traitor in line.' Draco is a traitor to Voldemort and I'm sure that Rebecca must be the only one who has any power to keep him from going back to Voldemort."

Ginny nodded in agreement. "Draco loves her," she whispered. "He admitted it to me. If she's on our side then Draco will stay on our side."

"How do we get Malfoy and Rebecca to fight for us?" Harry asked. "I've never even talked to Rebecca before. She's not in our House and she's not in any of my classes."

"That's because she's a fifth year," Ginny said.

Harry shrugged. "Whatever the reason, I've still never talked to her. She's a Slytherin – how our we going to convince her to come to fight with us? Especially if the prophecy says one of us will die?"

"_What!_" Ron grabbed the parchment from Hermione, his eyes flying over it. "'Blood will be spilt and one will be permanently left behind!' One of us is going to die?" Ron shook his head.

"It doesn't say one of us is going to die," Hermione said calmly, placing a hand on Ron's arm. "Permanently left behind could mean anything. It could mean left behind, like, one of us will turn back over to Voldemort or… something. I don't know. Let's not go crazy thinking one of us is going to die. The important thing is to remember that Voldemort _will_ be defeated if we can get Draco and Rebecca to fight with us."

"What if they don't agree?" Ron asked anxiously.

"I die," Harry said simply.

"You're not going to die," Ginny snapped. "I'll use the Imperius Curse on them if I have to. None of us are losing you again!"

Harry smiled at how vivacious Ginny could be. "Actually, Gin, if anyone's going to tell Malfoy, it should probably be you. He talks to you, doesn't he?"

Ginny nodded slowly. "Yes…"

"So, that's settled, then," Ron said, his relief that he wouldn't be the one to talk to Malfoy obvious. "But, do we know that we're doing the right thing with this potion and Animagus thing?"

"Hermione's got sevenfold the cunning of the Founders," said Harry, his tone almost mocking. "I doubt she's wrong. Ginny, Malfoy, and Rebecca must be there to help us fight, right? If Voldemort hasn't died by now – as many times as I've fought him – it'll probably take six of us to do it."

"As soon as we get Malfoy and Rebecca to agree to help us we can go after Voldemort ourselves," Hermione stated very matter-of-factly. "After all, we have everything we need to make the potion except for Voldemort's blood, that is. And I know Lupin will give us Gryffindor's sword as soon as he knows we're ready to fight."

"About that potion," Ron said, "are you sure you're going to have to cut off my hair? I really do like it."

Hermione frowned at him. "I know. I really like it as well. But, unless you want to cut off an arm or a hand, then, yes. Your hair will have to be cut."

Ron sighed. "Well, all right, then. I suppose. Just… don't leave me looking like a git when you do it?"

Hermione's frown turned into a smile and she nodded. "I won't. I promise."

"What were the other ingredients again?" Harry asked.

"Blood of your enemy, bone from his victims, sacrifice from your servant – er, from your friend, and it's mixed with a poisonous root."

"And you have all that?" Harry asked.

"Well, Lupin's already gone to Professor Sprout and given me the root and a box with bone from your parents…" Hermione's voice trailed off. She swallowed audibly. "I would've told you, but I didn't want you to get upset about the bone. I know you said you didn't mind if Lupin was able to get the bone, but you were having a fit over Tonks saying you should be a Metamorphmagus and, well, I didn't want to upset you further."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"You know how you get, Harry," Ginny said in Hermione's defense. "You brood. I'm not surprised she didn't tell you."

Harry let out the breath he was holding. "It's fine," he said.

"Why don't you take the parchment, Ginny, and go talk to Malfoy?" Hermione asked, holding out the written prophecy for Ginny to talk.

"All right. Wish me luck." Ginny took the parchment and left the room.

"I'm going to bed," Harry said, standing up. "I'm knackered and my brain hurts. G'night." With that, Harry also left the room, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in the kitchen to eat their dinners.

* * *

Some time later, Ron and Hermione sat in Hermione's room on either ends of the bed, facing each other. Hermione had the index to her Potions book open in front of her and she was going through the list of potions one by one. She, of course, knew the ingredients and properties of each potion and didn't need to look up their pages in the book.

"No, Ron, that's wrong."

Ron groaned.

"That's the fourth one you've gotten wrong in a row. What's wrong? You've been getting really good at Potions, too."

"It's your bloody game. It makes me want to study."

"So, what's wrong tonight?"

"The prophecy. What if Malfoy doesn't agree to fight with us?"

Hermione closed the Potions book. "Ginny told us that Malfoy said he'd write a letter to Rebecca and discuss it with her. I'm sure she'll agree to help us. Her parents aren't Death Eaters so she doesn't have any ties to Voldemort, right?"

Ron nodded. "I suppose."

"You're worried about one of us dying aren't you?"

"No," said Ron seriously, "I'm worried about _you_ dying."

Hermione sighed. "It's a rational fear, but I'm not going to die."

"Voldemort and his Death Eaters are going to try to keep you from brewing that potion."

"I can have Rebecca, Draco, or Ginny to protect me from them. I can use Harry's Invisibility Cloak as well so that the Death Eaters won't be able to find me when I need to finish the potion. I'll be fine. I worry more about you."

"_I'll_ be fine. I'll stay in animal form and pounce on all the Death Eaters. They won't be able to stop me."

Hermione smiled. "I know they won't. We'll both be all right."

"We better be all right. You have to help me cheat for the NEWTs."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"And then you have to help me study when I do practicals for Auror training."

"And cook your food and clean your clothes as well, right?" Hermione said sardonically, but with a small smile tugging at her lips.

"And mother all my children."

Hermione laughed.

"I love making you laugh," Ron said absentmindedly, watching the breeze from the open bedroom window flow gently through her hair.

"Ron, you fell asleep last night before we were able to finish our Potions game."

"I know." Ron blushed.

"Why don't we settle things now? You answered…"

"Twenty-one potions correctly," Ron said proudly.

"So, that's twenty-one minutes of snogging and two touches."

"Make them really good touches, please," Ron said smiling widely.

Hermione pulled Ron towards her and kissed him softly, tugging on his lower lip with her teeth until he opened up his mouth and pressed his tongue against hers. She wasted no time in pulling Ron's t-shirt over his head, allowing her hands to run over his chest and arms, squeezing his biceps and pulling him closer to her. With his hands on the buttons of her shirt, Hermione slapped at Ron's fingers.

"What?"

"The game," she said breathlessly. "I touch you, not the other way around."

Ron frowned, his eyes glancing towards her chest.

"No, Ron!"

Hermione pushed at him until she was able to remove herself from underneath him. Then, she pushed him down and sat on his hips. Her lips touched his once more. She didn't pull away until she felt Ron's hands gripping her sides.

"Ron, stop," she whispered, removing his hands before she kissed him again. Working her hands all over his body, her fingers stopped and lingered on his belt. Her flesh grew warmer as she took it off and worked on the buttons to his trousers. She pulled away from his mouth and tugged his trousers down his legs until they were completely off. Then, Hermione stood up by the bed and unbuttoned her shirt.

Ron watched her with unblinking eyes as she let her shirt drop to the floor. Her hands flew to her back where she unclasped her bra and undid her jeans and slid them down her legs along with her knickers. Ron sucked in a breath and she leaned over her and pulled on his boxers.

He was already hard but it felt like sweet agony when Hermione climbed back on top of him, her sex brushing against him. He felt her heat and arched his hips up, wanting her. Hermione kissed the hollow of his neck, sucking on the skin, her hands roaming all over his body again.

"Ron, no," she said again when he tried to touch her. "This is part of the game. Next time I come up with a game, you can choose the rules."

Ron pouted but he nodded. "All right."

His eyes were dark and Hermione's pulse quickened as he looked at her neck and her breasts, licking his lips. She widened her legs and sank down on him. Ron sucked in another large breath.

Hermione had never done this before. He was always the one to be on top. This game of hers was bloody fantastic. Her hips moved and grinded against him; he moaned from it. Her eyes were closed but Ron's were open, watching her. He felt his body heat up as though he had a fever. Her hands were still roaming all over him as her hips began to move in a figure eight and Ron knew he'd never love anyone like he loved her.

* * *

"Bloody fucking Christ," Harry cried, his eyes flying to the ceiling. "I _told_ them to use a goddamn Silencing Charm! I don't want to hear them having sex!"

Ginny smiled. She pulled one of Harry's jumpers over her head; the April nights were still a bit cool and goosebumps covered her arms. Sitting on his desk chair, she tilted her head to the side and watched him carefully.

"I read the letter Draco wrote to Rebecca."

"Oh?" Harry's eyes snapped back to Ginny. "What did it say?"

"It just explained the prophecy and that if the two of them didn't fight on our side then Voldemort would never die and would eventually kill them both. That's the truth, though. He already wants Draco dead and he went after Rebecca's parents before. It'd only be a matter of time before Voldemort found them and killed them." Ginny smiled slightly. "Plus, Draco added in a bit about loving her to soften her up."

"He's going soft."

"He's still a git."

Harry nodded. "Yes, he is."

"Draco will give the letter to Lupin tomorrow when he comes. We'll know her answer in a couple of days I'm sure. I'm really looking forward to seeing Bald Ron."

Harry laughed and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Ron _does_ love his hair."

"It looks just like Bill's, only shorter. It'll be a shame once it's gone. But, between you and me, he'll only be bald for a few days."

"Why's that?" Harry asked.

"Well, Hermione knows of a Hair Restoration Draught. She can't tell Ron about it because in order for the potion to work the sacrifice will have to be genuine. If Ron knows he'll get his hair back it wouldn't really be a sacrifice, would it?"

Harry shook his head. "But, for those few days can we call him Bald Ron and make fun of him?"

"Of _course_. I'm going to ask Lupin to get a camera and take a picture so we'll never forget."

Harry smiled. "Brilliant."

"I know. I'll have to give a copy to the twins. It would only be fair."

"Speaking of the twins… Have you heard from them? Or are the letters Lupin brings you from your parents?"

"Mostly from Mum and Dad," Ginny answered, "but I've gotten one from Fred and George each and two from Angelina. The one from George said that Fred was a stupid git and that I'd better get back soon to straighten him out. The one from Fred said the same thing about George. The ones from Angelina, though, were about the wedding."

"I didn't think Fred wanted to get married for a while?"

"That's what he said, but Angelina told me that he's more anxious to do it than she is. She expected to have at least a year and a half before they got hitched, but apparently Fred wants to do it really soon."

"Well, I assume they're going to wait until you and Ron are back?"

"Of course. Fred's talking about next winter sometime. Or maybe next spring. So, in a year most likely."

"Seems strange," Harry said, "for one of the twins to be so… _focused_. They were all about pranks and such. I know that they were right serious about the joke shop, but even still it was a _joke_ shop. Fred's so…"

"Settled," Ginny finished. She glanced up at the ceiling and frowned. "They really are being a bit loud. Mum would do her nut if she could hear them."

Harry sniggered at the thought of Mrs. Weasley hearing Ron and Hermione having sex. There would be a lot of yelling and a refusal to feed Ron if he didn't stop _this instant!_ It was the same old threat she always used and it worked. Once, Ron decided that he wasn't going to de-gnome the garden and Mrs. Weasley refused to feed him lunch until it was done. It didn't take Ron very long to chuck all the gnomes away from the yard after that.

"If Fred's not careful, he'll end up married before Percy."

"I know," Ginny said. "Percy and Penelope have been engaged for a very long time. I wonder if they'll ever do it. You would think that a stick-up-his-arse git like Percy would have made sure the appropriate engagement time hadn't expired before he actually got married."

"What's an appropriate engagement time?"

"No more than two years. Two years is almost too long," Ginny answered. "Unless you're still at Hogwarts or something. When did your parents get engaged?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I never asked Lupin… I'm sure he would know, though."

"Well, they were married the summer right after Hogwarts so I'm sure they were engaged right quick."

"Yeah." Harry liked thinking of his parents happy and together. It pained him to ever think of the time when his mother hated his father. He sighed. "You know, Gin, I'm a bit tired. You can sleep here if you want to, but I really need to go to bed. I told Ron and Hermione hours ago that I was knackered but I was waiting up for you to tell me about your conversation with Malfoy."

"Well, I've told you all about it, so I'll let you get some sleep. I'm not really tired. Maybe I'll read in the lounge. I'd read in my room but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to concentrate with all that moaning."

Harry smiled. Ginny got up from his desk chair and kissed him chastely on the mouth before leaving his room. Harry undressed and climbed into bed wearing naught but his boxers, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Hermione sat at the kitchen table three days later. Lupin had come and gone twice since they discovered the prophecy. His first visit, that next morning after Harry's return from the Ministry, went badly. Lupin blew up at them for coming up with such a terrible scheme to get the prophecy, endangering Harry's life and not telling Tonks the real reason for her giving Metamorphmagus lessons to Harry. After he calmed down, he read the prophecy Hermione had written out and sank into one of the overstuffed blue armchairs.

He agreed to get the sword from Dumbledore's old office immediately and to also deliver the letter to Rebecca. He would do what he always did with letters – give them to one of the school owls and have the owl drop the letter to the correct person during breakfast in the Great Hall. That way no one would know it was he who was in contact with the five missing students. Owls to any one at the safe house always came to Lupin by instinct. No one was any the wiser.

Lupin's second visit went much more smoothly. He handed a thick letter to Malfoy who bolted up the stairs out of sight after throwing Harry a few insults. Then, Lupin gave Harry the Sorting Hat. Harry pulled the sword out of the hat and watched it gleam.

Now, Hermione was in the kitchen with all the ingredients to the potion save Voldemort's blood. Rebecca's letter was positive and agreed to help them fight. Immediately, Hermione went to Ron and severed all his hair and collected it for the potion. Ron ran up the stairs to his room and shut the door. Hermione guessed he was either brooding or crying – and she wasn't sure which.

Everything was measured to the exact amount and Hermione was binding it all together. Once she acquired the blood of Harry's enemy, she'd be able to add it to the others in a small cauldron and Voldemort's soul would die.

A loud _CRACK!_ from the other room distracted Hermione from her binding spell. She stood up and walked into the lounge. Ron, Harry, and Ginny had the same idea and came into the room from where they were studying in the dining room.

"Professor," said Harry, "I didn't know you and Tonks were coming back today." Harry's eyes glanced back and forth between Lupin and Tonks.

"Yes, well, we have a certain, er, delivery," said Lupin. "Will one of you go and get Mr. Malfoy?"

"I'll do it," Ginny said. "It's almost me when it comes to Draco." She sighed but turned and bounded up the stairs to Draco's room. They both appeared back downstairs a few moments later.

"What do you want?" Malfoy asked.

"Can't you ever say anything nicely?" Ron demanded.

"Sod off, Weasel."

Lupin chose to ignore the bickering boys and address the group as a whole. "You're getting a new house mate."

"Oh, boy," Harry murmured. "Just what this house needs: another person."

"Is it Rebecca?" Hermione asked.

Lupin didn't need to answer her question because with another _CRACK!_ a slender black haired girl appeared in the lounge with a large pack resting on her shoulders with thick straps. She was wearing a Hogwarts uniform – grey skirt and socks with black shoes, a white button down shirt with a green and silver tie. Her uniform was perfect, just like Hermione's always was.

"Hi," the girl said meekly.

Malfoy swallowed. He stared at the Slytherin girl with wide, grey eyes, before turning around and bolting up the stairs at surprising speed.

* * *

**To Be Continued…  
**

**Hmmm... last time I asked for reviews to hit 500 and my reviews were exceeded by almost 20. Should I be really, really mean and not post another chapter until that number reaches 550? Or should I be nice and post any way? :)  
**

**I guess you'll have to check back later and find out!!  
**

**(sorry for editing mistakes, you know how I am)  
**


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Ginny took the girl into the kitchen. Harry, Hermione, and Ron spoke with Lupin and Tonks before joining the two girls in the other room. Hermione cleared the table of her things and they all sat down.

"I'm sorry Draco's such a prat," Ginny said.

"It's all right. I'm used to him. He has violent mood swings." She looked at the other three partially unfamiliar faces. "I'm Rebecca."

"We know," Hermione said. "I'm Hermione. This is Ron and Harry and that's Ginny."

Rebecca nodded. "I know. You three are infamous for getting into trouble."

Harry beamed but Hermione scowled.

"I don't think I want to be remembered at Hogwarts for getting into trouble."

"They'll be talking about your illegal club for years," Rebecca said honestly. "There aren't many Slytherins who would actually join it, but they were in awe that you lot created an association behind Umbridge's back and stuck with it for so long. Actually… It's a bit Slytherin to do that."

Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly. "A bit Slytherin?"

"Yes," said Rebecca, nodding. "Slytherins are supposed to use any means to achieve their ends, yeah? You started an illegal club to learn Defense."

Harry straightened up in his seat. "Rebecca, let me ask you something. I know Malfoy wrote to you what was in that prophecy, but I'm still a little bit surprised that you are willing to help us. Why?"

"Voldemort went after my parents – if I don't help you fight he'll keep going after us until we're killed."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione said. "Killing your parents just because they're not Death Eaters."

Rebecca gave Hermione an incredulous look. "No… he went after my family because I'm half-Muggle. My dad's family line can be traced back a thousand years, but my mum's a Muggle."

Ginny seemed to be the only one who wasn't genuinely surprised at this statement. Ron had the hardest time grasping on to the concept that there was a half-blood in Slytherin and that she dated Draco Malfoy.

"I didn't think the hat put anyone who wasn't a Pure Blood into Slytherin?"

"My father was a Slytherin and I am a bit cunning when it comes down to it. I'll do almost anything to stay first in all my subjects." Rebecca gave a small shrug. "I think it has a lot to do with my father being a second cousin by marriage to Voldemort, which makes me related by marriage to Slytherin himself… I think."

"But – you dated _Malfoy_," Ron said. "Malfoy _hates_ anyone who isn't Pure Blood and rich."

"Draco didn't know until I told him," said Rebecca, looking away from the group. "Then, we broke up. We're both still a lot Slytherin; we're helping you fight because it'll keep us alive, not because it's the right thing to do. If I had my way I probably would stay at Hogwarts where it's safe until this is all over, but I don't want to live in fear of my life anymore, so I'm here, and I'm going to help you fight. I'm only fifteen so I don't know what good I'll be, really. I don't know as many advanced Defense spells. I wasn't in the DA when I was a third year so…"

"That's all right," said Hermione. "You're not allowed to do magic here, anyway. Ginny's still sixteen so even she can't use it. I'll be able to find something for you to do to help and as soon as Malfoy stops acting like a silly git, we'll figure out exactly what he needs to do to help when we go and fight Voldemort as well."

Rebecca nodded. "That's fine. I was told I wouldn't miss more than a couple of weeks of classes? So, I'm assuming that you're going to go after the Dark Lord soon?"

"Yes," Harry said, although it came out as quiet as a whisper.

"How are you going to find him?"

"I'm going to stop using Occlumency and see if I can't break into his mind somehow. This is going to be the last time I kill him."

Rebecca raised her eyebrows. "You've killed him before?"

"Well, sort of. He went through this veil at the Department of Mysteries—"

"Oh, I know about that."

Harry's eyebrows disappeared underneath his hair; he was truly shocked. "You – what?"

"My father's an Unspeakable. People aren't really meant to go through the veil; it's a barrier between this world and the next world. Unspeakables try to talk to people through the veil in order to find answers to some of life's questions. Sounds a bit cliché, I know, but that's really what it's there for. Since the veil isn't meant to be a portal back and forth between realms, if you go through it you only stay on the other side if you ready to accept death. I'm guessing the Dark Lord wasn't ready to accept his death."

"I came back through as well," said Harry.

Rebecca didn't reply, only looked at him with expectant eyes.

"Er, I wasn't ready to die yet either, I suppose."

"I should go and speak with Draco. He's probably brooding up there. That's what he likes to do when he gets upset, brood. Bloody annoying, really." Rebecca stood up and walked to the foot of the stair. "Er, which room is his?"

"One floor up at the end of the corridor," said Ginny.

"Thanks." Rebecca disappeared up the stairs.

"Wow," said Ron, letting out a breath. "Malfoy slept with a half-blood? No wonder his father wanted to disown him."

Ginny nodded. "That's why he's been so moody and distant. She's everything that he hates – half-Muggle, against Voldemort… That's the real reason why he's here. See, his father found out that Rebecca wasn't a Pure Blood and even though Draco severed his ties with her, his father still went to Voldemort and told him of Draco's doings. Draco found out he was going to go after Rebecca's family and told Snape."

"Who, of course, told the Order," Hermione said. "Well, it makes perfect sense, really."

"He's still a git," said Ron.

"Even so, he's been through a lot emotionally. He hates her and loves her and it's driving him mad," said Ginny.

"Is this what the two of you talk about?" asked Hermione.

Ginny nodded. "Yes. But, it makes sense, though. He wouldn't be comfortable talking to a boy about these things, since they're matters of the heart, really. And you're a Muggle, Hermione, and I'm a Pure Blood."

"Yes, it does make sense," said Hermione.

Harry, tired of discussing Malfoy, looked at Ron with a smile on his face. "So, Ron, how does it feel to be bald?"

"Shut it, Harry."

"No, really, is it cold up there?"

"I'm warning you," Ron sneered.

"Do you need a hat? Maybe Hermione could knit you a hat like she did for the house elves? One with a nice bobble?"

Ron flew over the table and grabbed Harry by the shirt collar, pulling him out of his chair. Harry began to laugh despite the raged look in Ron's eye.

"I said, shut it! If it wasn't for you I'd still have hair!" Ron let go of Harry and sank back down in his chair. "I did love my hair."

Hermione patted Ron's shoulder. "It's all right. I still like you…"

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Ron snapped. "I'm going upstairs." Ron pushed his chair back so hard it fell over. He marched up the stairs, leaving the kitchen full of silence in his wake.

* * *

Rebecca knocked on Draco's bedroom door. She tried the doorknob; it turned easily. Upon opening the door she found Draco sitting at his desk, leaning over a book. He didn't look up when she entered his room, shutting the door behind her.

"You knew I was coming," said Rebecca.

Draco's eyes faltered on the book and he nodded. "I know. I just didn't know I'd be seeing you so soon. Are you staying here?"

"Yes."

Draco set the book down on his desk and turned his head. He studied Rebecca as if he hadn't seen her in twenty years – her hair, her eyes, her cheek bones.

"We're going to fight him so he doesn't kill us later," Draco stated. "Then, I'll go back to Hogwarts and take my NEWTs and we'll never have to see each other again."

"If that's what you want."

"That's exactly what I want."

A smile crossed Rebecca's face. "You always were rubbish at lying."

"We can't be together. You're half Muggle, dirty, impure."

"That's how you see it. I don't see it that way. I'm a witch; it's as simple as that. Why do you care about blood? Your friends downstairs don't seem to care very much. I know for a fact that that frizzy haired girl has _two _Muggle parents and the Weasley boy is with her – and he has the purest of blood. Harry's half and the Weasley girl is with him. None of _them_ care about blood!"

"They're not my friends!" Draco roared. "I _can't_ be with you."

"Why?" asked Rebecca, cocking her head to the side. "Afraid of what your father will say? He was ready to hand you over to the Dark Lord last I heard. Or perhaps you are afraid of your mother? She's out of her mind. She'll never leave St. Mungo's. What about your friends? When was the last time Crabbe and Goyle actually talked to you? I think you're afraid of you."

"Come off it."

"I know what you wrote to me in your letters. You said you were sorry."

"I was sorry."

Rebecca crossed the room and stood in front of Draco. "Then why won't you let this happen?"

"You're only fifteen – what do you know about anything?"

"You're only seventeen!"

"Eighteen," Draco corrected quietly. "I'm eighteen. And this is more complicated than just me being sorry, you know. I _can't_ have a relationship with someone who isn't Pure Blood."

"So, after we help Harry kill the Dark Lord you're going to go back to ignoring me? I broke up with Daniel to be with you! I thought that's what you wanted!"

"I never said that!"

"But, you made it quite clear you didn't want me to be with Daniel."

Draco sighed.

"I don't understand," Rebecca said, her eyes filling with tears. "Before you knew about my mum, you were happy with me, weren't you?"

Draco nodded.

"I can't help who my parents are. I didn't ask to be born to a Muggle and a Wizard. I didn't ask to be sorted into Slytherin and I certainly didn't ask to fall in love with a smarmy, thick-headed git!"

"You still love me?"

Rebecca resisted the urge to stomp her foot. "Of course I do! Do you still love me?"

"No."

"Liar."

Draco swallowed and wet his lips. "You always did look sexy in that school uniform. Your eyes match the tie." Draco stood up and took a step towards Rebecca. He leaned forward, his breath hot on her neck, and whispered into her ear, "Will you let me undress you? Ravish you? Defile you like _he_ defiled you?"

"No one defiled me."

"Not even Daniel?"

"You know I didn't let him touch me the way I let you touch me."

"Do I?" Draco asked, pulling back and looking straight in Rebecca's eyes.

"Tra la la la la, Draco. You're boring me."

"You always were a bit of a slag, weren't you?"

Rebecca kept a straight face and took in a deep breath. "Only with you."

Draco reached down and ran a hand up Rebecca's skirt. "No one else?"

"No."

Draco took back his hand. "You always were a terrible liar yourself, Rebecca. Stupid Mudblood."

"You know it was only you! And don't you dare call me a Mudblood!" Rebecca snarled, bringing her hand back and slapping Draco across his face with as much strength as she could muster.

His head snapped to the side and his breaths came in small pants before he turned and looked at her with dangerous eyes. Draco pushed Rebecca back against the door forcefully, pinning her against it with one arm. The fingers of his free hand touched his cheek, feeling where his skin was beginning to redden and swell from the force of her slap.

A smile crossed his face as dangerous as the look in his eye.

He violently ripped away her shirt and tie in a fury of flying buttons and fabric. Before crashing his mouth against hers he whispered, "You always did know just how I liked it."

* * *

"How is Rebecca going to be of any help?" Ginny asked. "And I just mean because she's even further behind in Defense than I am."

"You're not far behind in Defense," said Harry. "You learned a lot in the DA and helped us fight in the Ministry two years ago."

After Ron and Rebecca's departure, Hermione took out her measurements of the potion ingredients and went back to work binding them together. She looked up from her work at Harry and Ginny across the kitchen table.

"We can give her a really simple job, but a really important one," she said.

"Like what?"

"Well, Harry, do you know how to release that power of yours again? The mental one?"

Harry nodded. "Perhaps not as forceful this time. Over Christmas I was really upset because Voldemort had Ginny and Ron."

"Right, well, once you weaken Voldemort a bit with that, Ron will morph into his animal – no, Ginny, I'm not going to tell you what it is – and cut Voldemort. Ron may not have time to change back into human form to collect Voldemort's blood and you, Harry, have to be ready with the sword as soon as I've said the incantation to kill Voldemort's body. Rebecca can be waiting for Ron to hurt Voldemort and collect his blood to give to me."

"What will I do?" Ginny asked.

"Protect me," said Hermione, "while I do the potion. There will be other Death Eaters around Voldemort, I'm sure, but if he's unaware that we're going to go to him and attack his forces might be few in number… I hope."

"Besides, won't Lupin tell members of the Order to go and help us?"

Hermione nodded. "That's a good point. I know we'll be able to count on a lot of the members to help us. Mad-Eye would certainly not want to miss Voldemort's destruction."

"Neither would Lupin or Tonks," said Ginny. "I'm really good at Summoning Charms. I'm sure I can _Accio_ a few wands. If Ron stays in his animal form he can certainly do some harm, can't he?"

Hermione nodded again. "Yes."

"But, you're not going to tell me what his animal is?"

"No, I promised him I wouldn't."

Harry clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in thought. "It's not an embarrassing animal, is it?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think it is. Ron doesn't like it, though."

"It's not a bald animal is it?"

Hermione looked sternly at Harry. "You riled him up enough, I think, over his hair. Leave him alone. You're lucky he didn't hex you with Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hex, you know."

"I'm not afraid of Ron."

"You should be," Hermione said simply, finishing up her binding spell on the ingredients. She slipped them into her pocket. "He's practically twice your size."

"I'm not complete rubbish when it comes to a physical fight."

"Against someone Ron's size you might be," Ginny said truthfully. She covered his mouth with her hand quickly. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry – I didn't mean to say that I don't think you're strong or anything – please don't brood."

"Why does everyone think I always brood?" Harry snapped.

"Because when you get upset you snap everybody's head off and then disappear into your room!" cried Ginny.

"If the two of you are going to fight, I'm going upstairs." Hermione made her way to the stairwell.

"Oh, Hermione?" Ginny said. "Next time you and Ron shag, don't forget to silence your room. We heard you loud and clear a couple of nights ago."

Hermione didn't reply but her cheeks flushed a violent shade of red and she made her way up the stairs.

* * *

Later that night Harry made dinner for everyone. Malfoy made an uncharacteristic appearance which everyone credited to Rebecca. The only sounds in the kitchen were those of forks scraping against plates and knives cutting up bits of meat. While Harry was finishing cooking, Hermione explained to everyone exactly what their roles were going to be when they were to fight Voldemort.

Harry was to protect Ron while Ron changed into his animal. Their roles would be reversed when it was Harry's turn to take Voldemort's life with Gryffindor's sword.

Draco was to protect Rebecca while she gathered Voldemort's blood to give to Hermione. After the blood was delivered, the two of them were to go back and help Harry and Ron with the other Death Eaters once Hermione completed the incantation.

Ginny was to hide underneath the Invisibility Cloak with Hermione to keep the ingredients to the potion safe. Once Rebecca could be seen with Voldemort's blood, Ginny would emerge from the cloak and fight off anyone who tried to get to Hermione before the spell was completed.

Other members of the Order would, of course, be there, but in order to fulfill the prophecy, the six of them would have to openly fight in the battle. This fact seemed to loom over each of their heads except for Ron's. He ate his food quickly, refilling his plate often, as though his stomach were as bottomless as ever. The rest of them picked at their food, not really interested in eating.

"I'm going to do it tonight," Harry said.

"Do what?" Ron asked, his mouth full of candied potatoes Harry got from a jar.

"Keep my mind open tonight. Hopefully, I'll be able to dream or get a vision."

"Get a what?" Draco asked, looking slightly taken aback.

"Harry and Voldemort are connected," Hermione explained. "If Harry doesn't practice Occlumency and close his mind off, he and Voldemort can exchange thoughts and feelings and even mild possessions of one another. Right, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Wouldn't that be useful?" queried Draco. "To see what the Dark Lord was doing?"

"No," said Harry, shaking his head, "because he can also see or sense what _we're_ doing and use it against us. It's safer blocking him. Tonight, though, I'll try opening up my mind. I can't have distraction, though, because I'm so used to blocking everything out of my head." Harry gave Ginny an apologetic glance. "And I can't risk anyone waking me up in the middle of a vision or a dream."

Ginny nodded her head once to show she understood.

"So, we get to go back to Hogwarts after this, right?" Rebecca asked. "I mean, I only ask because of OWLs…"

Ron groaned. "Don't remind me of OWLs."

Hermione rolled her eyes. To Rebecca she said, "I hope we get back in time. I'm sure we will, though. We all have NEWTs to take. I just hope that being away from Hogwarts for so long won't hinder us from doing well on the tests since we haven't had proper teachers."

"_You'll_ do fine," Ron said, "but I'm sure I'll be rubbish."

"You weren't rubbish when you took the OWLs," Hermione said. "You did very well, I might add. Your mum was certainly pleased."

"She would be happy with almost anything," said Ginny, "after the twins' dreadful scores. Three OWLs. You could hear her yelling for a week and I don't think the twins got fed very much that summer either…"

"I know I said before that I was only fighting so the Dark Lord wouldn't come after me or my family again… but, I want you to know I'm going to fight hard," said Rebecca. "I don't want you thinking I won't do my share. I'm a Slytherin – I can't help but think of myself first, but there are other important people involved as well. They need to be fought for."

"What other people?" Ginny asked.

"The other half-Muggles for one; those who are just like me."

Ginny nodded in understanding. She caught the glance Rebecca gave Malfoy and noticed how the blonde haired boy blushed slightly under the Slytherin girl's gaze. You would think that Malfoy would be less of a git when he was in love. Unfortunately, he was still a right git, only now he blushed occasionally. Ginny rolled her eyes in spite of herself and turned to Harry who had stopped eating and was staring at his plate.

"Nervous?" she asked.

"A bit."

"Scared?"

"Yes."

Ginny patted his leg in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture. Harry smiled at her, his heart lifting slightly.

"I need to go to bed," he said to her. He kissed her mouth softly and quickly before pushing his chair back and saying good night. He went up the stairs to his room.

* * *

The sign at the beginning of the road read _Welcome to Wiltshire_. Underneath that the population number had broken off, leaving the sign looking old and worn. The road was more like an abandoned dirt path, discarded once paved roads were made throughout the town. The town included Stonehenge and upon passing the structure, a chill crept down Harry's back.

Further down the path, past a thick wooded area, was a large house – a mansion. Four stories high, built of stone, with ominous looking towers on each corner, the house looked like no one but the Darkest of Wizards could live there.

Outside the house, in the flower garden, an old, knobbly looking elf was tossing gnomes into the woods not far from the house. Harry had to dodge left as one of the gnomes came straight at him, wailing a pathetic sounding little scream.

Up the stone stairs and into the foyer of the house, Harry found himself looking at vaulted ceilings covered in gold painted artwork with chandeliers and lit candles. Suits of armor stood along the corridors to each of the rooms. The lounge was grand, with fancy furniture covered in silk and an everlasting fire in the walk-in fireplace. The floors were stone but covered with velvet carpet of the darkest green, threaded with thin silver thread that looked shockingly like unicorn hair.

Harry went upstairs and entered a large bedroom about the size of the downstairs level of the Dursley house. Portraits of Quidditch players hung on the walls and framed pictures on the desk revealed familiar faces of Hogwarts students in grey uniform skirts and trousers with large, silly grins plastered across their faces. The bed was large and an elf was dusting off a night table with a clock much like the one the Weasleys owned and a candlestick without a candle.

Harry felt a tug from something and walked against his will back downstairs. The dining room he found himself in envied the Great Hall of Hogwarts with a table that could sit over a hundred, complete place settings in front of each chair, and portraits on the walls of sleeping Witches and Wizards of yore.

Past the dining room Harry found himself in a drawing room. Black curtains covered the floor to ceiling windows and the only light was from underneath a rug on the floor. Kicking away the velvet rug, Harry saw that underneath the stone floor was not stone at all, but iron in the shape of a door. The door led to a small room filled with Dark items – weapons, books, potion ingredients, and a strange looking hand that looked exactly like the Hand of Glory. In the corner of the room Harry could see two wizards talking, wearing black hoods. Only when one of them turned around did Harry recognize exactly who they were.

But, he felt a tug on the back of his shirt and he found himself being flung out of the house and once again near the garden, looking at the sheer height and magnitude of the mansion. He watched as a group of twenty or so Death Eaters left the house and Apparated away with several loud cracks and pops reverberating in the air.

* * *

When Harry woke up the sun was shining in his bedroom. He blinked several times and blindly reached over to his night table for his glasses. Once on his nose, Harry jumped out of bed, throwing a pair of trousers on over his boxers, ran out of his room. He flew down the stairs two at a time to the kitchen where everyone was eating breakfast, including a tired looking Malfoy.

"Couldn't bother to fully dress yourself, Potter?" Malfoy said nastily.

"Sod off, Malfoy, I'm not in the mood."

"Did you dream anything, Harry?" Hermione asked hopefully.

Harry nodded. "I did. And I saw him."

"Saw the Dark Lord?" Rebecca asked, setting down the spoon she was using for her cereal. "Where?"

"In Wiltshire."

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "In Wiltshire, you say?"

"That's where Stonehenge is," Hermione said. "It's suppose to old and have lots of—"

"Yeah," Harry interrupted, "but Voldemort isn't in Stonehenge. He's at a mansion close to it, though. He hides in a secret room underneath the drawing room. I saw him. And I saw Lucius Malfoy speaking with him. I had control over part of my dream – I was able to remove the rug and go into the secret room, but, then, I was flung against my will out of the house. But, once outside I saw a huge group of Death Eaters leaving the house, so I think Voldemort's there with very few followers."

"You're sure it was Wiltshire?" asked Malfoy.

"Positive."

"So, that's where we're going, then?" Ron asked. "To some mansion in Wiltshire, England?"

"Not just _some_ mansion, Ron," said Harry. "We're going to Malfoy Mansion."

* * *

**To Be Continued…  
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**  
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**A/N: Erm... hmm...  
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**I don't mean to "coerce" any of you into reviewing my story. If you don't want to leave a review, please don't. As one reader said, they found it appauling that I would coerce my readers into reviewing my story or else risk me not updating with another chapter. I'll always update - have no fear! And I apologize to anyone else I have offended by "coercing" you to review my story.  
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**That being said, if you don't want to review, please don't.  
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**That being said, if you want to review, please do! But, please don't flame me. I appreciate criticism as long as it's constructive. Telling me my story is corny, a cop-out, or portrays the characters poorly doesn't help me because you're only insulting the story - not telling me how to improve! So, if you want to criticize, please do - I'm a writer by nature, I'm used to edits and criticism. I am not used to blatant insults.  
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**Now, to the end of my Author's Note!  
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**As I'm sure many of you have guessed, there are very few chapters left. The end of the story looms near (dun dun dun). So, if there is anything specific you want to have happen before the end of the story, let me know and I will take it under advisement because I want my readers to be happy! I can't write in everything that everyone wants to have happen, but I can do my best!  
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**But, as always, don't review if you don't want to!  
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**Happy reading and I'm working hard on the next chapter!!!  
**


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

"My – what?" Malfoy stammered.

"You're house," said Harry firmly.

Malfoy rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. "How'd you know it was my house?"

"You live in Wiltshire, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And you have big ceilings and suits of armor and your room has portraits of Quidditch players and pictures of a bunch of Slytherins?"

Malfoy scowled. "Sounds like my house. …the bloody hell do they want with my house?"

"Well," said Hermione, "it's big, isn't it? And it's already been inspected by the Ministry and been deemed vacated, right?"

"Yes," growled Malfoy through clenched teeth. "But only until I graduate. Then, it's _my_ house."

"You're going to live in that big mansion all by yourself?" asked Ginny.

"It'll be me and the elves."

Hermione opened her mouth to make a retort about the way she assumed Malfoy treated his House Elves, but Ron gently prodded her in the side with his elbow and shook his head.

Instead, Hermione said, "I'll owl Professor Lupin right now. I'm sure this will deem as an emergency. We can go tonight to the house, yeah? You said a lot of Death Eaters left, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"So, there will be less resistance." Hermione got up and left the kitchen, presumably to write a letter to Professor Lupin.

"My house is going to be destroyed, isn't it?" said Malfoy quietly.

"We can repair anything that gets broken," said Rebecca. She reached over to take Malfoy's hand but he snatched his hand back from her grasp. Ginny and Ron both flinched, but Rebecca reacted as if nothing happened.

"It doesn't matter, really. Unless my father goes to Azkaban I can never go back home." Malfoy placed his chin against the palm of his hand and leaned on the table. "I would like to take my mom out of St. Mungo's and bring her home."

"Don't they take care of her there?" asked Harry.

"Her brain was addled by magic. She's a walking zombie but still has control over herself to an extent. She stares off into space mostly. Still, even someone like you can understand wanting to be around familiar things."

Harry nodded. "I suppose."

"Well, suppose this: she's completely aware of what's going on, she just can't talk or anything. Wouldn't you rather be at home than in some dumpy hospital surrounded by patients that your husband put there with the end of his own wand?"

"Like the Longbottoms," said Ron quietly.

"Well, that wasn't my father who did that, but essentially, yes."

"You don't know she's aware of anything, though," said Hermione, returning to the kitchen with parchment in hand and Hedwig sitting on her shoulder.

"So? In the slightest chance that she might be aware I don't want her stuck in some trashy hospital in the middle of London. I don't hate my mother."

"Only your father, then?"

"Yes," Malfoy snapped viciously. "Only my father."

Hermione folded up the parchment and tied it to Hedwig's leg. She went to the door and opened it. "Take that to Professor Lupin, all right?" Hedwig nipped at Hermione's fingers and took flight. Satisfied that the snowy owl would know where to go, Hermione shut the door.

"Too bad we can't go right now. I'm ready to get back to school," said Rebecca.

"We'll go soon enough," said Hermione. "I'd suggest practicing Defense, but I don't want any of us to get hurt before we're supposed to fight."

"Not to mention Rebecca and I can't do magic," Ginny reminded them.

"So, we're supposed to sit idly by and wait for the werewolf to contact us?" asked Malfoy.

"Yes, that's precisely what we're going to do."

* * *

Hedwig returned around dinner time with a short note tied to her leg. Harry removed it and read it aloud. It was a simple note, telling them to be ready at six the next morning for Tonks' arrival. She would bring with her a portkey that would take them all into the woods at Wiltshire where they would meet several members of the Order, mostly Aurors who were trained to fight in battles of magic. There they would proceed to Malfoy Mansion where hopefully everything would go as smoothly as a Final Battle could.

Draco disappeared immediately after Harry read Lupin's letter. Rebecca followed him, giving her apologies to the group for his unsightly behavior.

Hermione used her wand to clean the dirty supper dishes while Ginny begged Ron to show her his Animagus animal. He refused.

"_Please_! I might not get to see it tomorrow because I'll be with Hermione. And I really, really want to see it." Ginny looked at Harry. "Don't you?"

Harry nodded. "Definitely."

"Hermione said it wasn't an embarrassing animal." Ginny pouted. "Please? You're my favorite brother."

"Only when Bill's not around," mused Ron.

"That's not true! You're still my favorite brother. And you're my friend."

The truth of Ginny's statement hit Ron in a funny way. He shifted in his chair, running a hand over the extremely short hairs on his head. The only sound in the room was that of the water running in the sink and the swish of sponges against the plates.

"Oh, all right," said Ron.

Ginny clapped her hands together. "Yay! Oh, I'm so excited now!"

Ron stood up and looked around the kitchen. "Er, let's move the table to the wall."

Harry and Ginny stood up and moved their chairs out of the way, allowing Ron to push the table against the wall, leaving the middle of the floor as an open space. Ron took in a deep breath. Harry and Ginny (and Hermione as well) watched Ron in awe. His hair lengthened on his head and continued to grow around his face and the rest of his body. His nose broadened and extended, his teeth sharpened, and his back hunched over. His fingernails turned into claws and his fingers shortened until they were paws, the palms of his hands becoming thick pads. His entire body grew until he was from head to tail almost twelve feet long. The hair around his head continued to grow in an orange and dark yellow mane, his blue eyes remaining blue but changing shape. Along his flanks and limbs were black stripes right where he had scars from the brain at the Department of Mysteries fifth year. On his back were more stripes where he had childhood and Quidditch scars from cuts and scrapes he hadn't bothered to have healed.

Harry's eyes narrowed at Animal Ron, his mouth opening slightly in shock. Ron was massive. Long and thick with powerful looking muscles in each of his four legs. His tail swished and hit the back of Ginny's legs, causing her to stumble forward. Harry caught her by the arm and helped her stand up right.

"What – er – Hermione?" Ginny's wide eyes turned to look at Hermione. The bushy haired girl was studying Animal Ron with a fascination.

"He's a Liger," Hermione said simply.

"Oh, right, of course," said Ginny. "A Liger. I should have guessed. Hermione – _what the hell is a Liger_?"

Hermione's eyes went from Animal Ron to Ginny. "A Liger is a new species of cat – a cross breed of a Lion and a Tiger. See how he has both characteristics of a Lion and a Tiger? The mane, the stripes? But, since he's a cross breed – a hybrid, if you will – he's much, much larger than an ordinary wild cat usually is."

"And Ligers actually exist?"

"In America they do," Harry said. "Leave it to the bloody Americans to fuck with nature and create something like _that_. But, how can Ron transform himself into an animal that shouldn't even exist?"

"I researched it, actually," said Hermione.

"I'm not surprised," Harry replied.

"Once an animal in brought into existence an Animagus can transfigure themselves into that animal. There are no parameters of what kind of animal you can turn into."

Harry nodded. "Right." He looked at Animal Ron who had walked up to Hermione and nudged her in the stomach with his nose, only stopping when she reached down and scratched his head. "He's _huge_."

"Yes. Lions are quite large at eight feet. Ron's clearly almost twelve feet. I wouldn't be surprised, actually, if he was bigger than that."

"If I was Voldemort," said Ginny, "and I saw _that_ coming at me, I think I'd surrender."

Hermione smiled. "The larger the animal, the more difficult it is to have the Killing Curse or Crucio have any affect. Ron's lucky he didn't turn into a opossum."

"Or a mink?" Ginny suggested, smiling.

"Or a mink, yes."

Ron slowly transformed himself from Animal Ron back to Human Ron. He looked at his little sister and Harry, expecting to hear reactions.

"Brilliant," said Harry and Ginny nodded in agreement.

"So, you think Voldemort's going to surrender when he sees me?" asked Ron merrily.

Ginny giggled. "Yeah. Do you realize how _huge_ you are?"

"Why do you think I moved the table?"

"_Huge_," Ginny said again. "Be careful that you don't kill Voldemort youself."

"I'll be careful."

"Why were you so shy about showing us your Animagus?" asked Ginny. "We didn't laugh."

Ron shrugged. "I mean, a Liger? It's a bit of a joke, isn't it?"

"No – and you have the heart of Gryffindor, after all," said Harry seriously. "The prophecy said so."

"Right."

"Well, _I_ think it's brilliant," Hermione said. "And I'm really proud of you, Ron."

Ron blushed. "What for?"

"For not getting too discouraged and sticking with it. You're really smart when you allow yourself to be. How else would you learn to become an Animagus? That's the hardest bit of Transfiguration there is. You should have no excuse to not get an O on your NEWTs."

"Leave it to Hermione to bring up NEWTs at a time like this," said Harry.

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "We'll be back at Hogwarts in time for NEWTs, Harry! You shouldn't put off studying. You think I'm just going to cease my own studying to help you catch up with yours? NEWTs are very important. They help determine your career!"

"You look and sound just like Mrs. Weasley, y'know." Harry grinned. "And I don't care about NEWTs. Maybe I'll follow in Fred and George's footsteps and not take them."

"Harry!"

"But, either way, I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Harry nodded for Ginny to follow him up the stairs. Hermione watched them go, but her attention was immediately brought back to Ron as she felt his eyes on her.

"So, you're proud of me, eh?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes. Very much so."

"Gee, thanks. Well, I'm proud of you as well for thinking up all this stuff that's going to finally rid us of Voldemort. I wonder why no one ever figured it out before?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't rightly know."

"They're just not as clever as you are."

"No… I just think the Order has their hands full with all these Muggle attacks and trying to locate Death Eaters and prevent them from killing. No one has the time to sit and search through book after book after book like I did."

"You're going to be brilliant, you know, when you start your career – whichever one you choose."

"I think I'd like to work for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Ron made a face. "Spew again?"

"Not _spew_, Ronald! S-P-E-W. And, yes, if I worked there I could help the elves gain rights. Not to mention I'd be able to help other creatures. For one, the Werewolf Registry is completely biased as is the WCU."

"What's the WCU?"

"Werewolf Capture Unit," Hermione replied. "I'd like to get that nasty little degree Umbridge drafted thrown out so Lupin can get a job."

"He has a job."

"Only for the year. Honestly, Ron, don't you ever listen? Tonks has been getting restless over having a baby, but after this year he won't be able to teach at Hogwarts. He says he needs a job so he can help pay for a family."

"Why can't he teach at Hogwarts?"

"Dumbledore was able to persuade the Minister of Magic not to interfere with the hiring of a werewolf because Harry needed all the members of the Order around him as protection. Harry won't be at Hogwarts next year so there's no excuse to keep Lupin employed."

Ron frowned. "That's not fair."

"I _know_. That's why if I work for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures I can _help_ him."

"Always wanting to help people," Ron said. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

Ron closed the gap between them and took her hands in his. "I, er, just want to make sure you know that I love you."

"I know, Ron."

"I just don't think I tell you enough."

"I don't need to hear it every day to know that you do."

"Well, I want to remind you because no matter what happens tomorrow, you're it for me and there'll never be anyone else."

Hermione smiled softly. "I know. I feel the same."

"I just want you to know that."

"But, neither of us is going anywhere. We're going to live through it and go back to Hogwarts and graduate and do all the things we want to do. And we'll be able to do it without fear of being killed or our family and friends being killed by Voldemort."

"That's what I really want."

Hermione smiled. "Me, too."

"And maybe one day there'll be a Defense teacher who'll set an essay on us – and Harry, of course – about the day we all destroyed the Darkest Wizard there ever was."

"You know how I do love a good essay. That'd be a dream come true."

Ron pulled Hermione close and held her against him. "I love you so much."

"I know. I love you, too."

"I wish I could promise you everything right now."

"What would you promise me, Ron?"

"Just to make you happy."

"Well, you _do_ make me happy," said Hermione.

"We're going to live through this," Ron said firmly, trying to make himself believe his own words. "We're going to live through this, and we're going to stay at The Burrow this summer and have our wedding and have our eight children—"

"Eight?!" Hermione shrieked.

Ron chortled. "I'm only kidding."

Hermione pulled away from Ron just enough to look up at him. "Well, maybe one or two wouldn't hurt – _one day_. Not any time soon. I'm still taking that potion every day."

"One or two. I don't care. Just as long as you're happy."

"Promise?"

Ron nodded. He furrowed his brow in thought. He looked over at the kitchen table to where the stack of parchment Hermione brought in during breakfast still sat. Pulling her over to the paper, Ron sat down on top of the table.

"What are you doing?" asked Hermione.

"Hold on." Ron took out his wand and severed a thin strip of paper. Using his wand, he made the paper into a small ring and took Hermione's hand and slipped the paper over her finger. He bound the paper together and placed an Unbreakable Charm on it.

"What...?" Hermione looked at Ron with wide eyes.

"Well, I'm poor. I reckon this is as close to a promise ring as I'll ever get."

"A promise ring?"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, haven't you heard of those?"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! You stole my trashy romance book!"

Ron blushed. "Well, you had your nose stuck in it for so long. When you finished I didn't think you'd notice that it was gone so I took it and read it since you said it was called a 'romance' novel and all that rubbish. I reckoned it was the only real bit of romance in that book. If you think it's silly, I'll unbind the paper and take it off."

"Don't you dare!" Hermione cried, pulling her hand away from Ron.

"Well, then." He cleared his throat. "That's my promise to you that I'll always try my best to make you happy and all that other mushy, future, romance rubbish."

Tears welled up behind Hermione's eyes. "You have no idea how amazing you are."

"Stop or I'll blush again."

Hermione kissed Ron's jaw. "If we're going to risk dying tomorrow, we better make this night count."

Ron didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Ginny lay on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, watching Harry as he played with her hair. She was completely naked and resisted the urge to blush every time Harry's eyes traveled to her unclothed breasts, watching them move with each breath she took.

Harry jumped slightly when he heard the door directly above his room slam shut. "Either the two of them got in another row, or Ron just kicked her door shut."

"I bet Ron kicked the door. Shh, let's see if they do a Silencing Charm this time." Ginny waited. After a full minute she smiled and nodded. "Good for them. They remembered this time."

"There's going to be a lot of sex in this house tonight. Your mother would absolutely die if she knew what her children were doing."

Ginny giggled. "Yes, she would. Can you imagine the yelling?"

"Yes, which is why I'm glad I don't live there to listen to her wrath."

Ginny's smile faded slightly. "But, you're going to live there, aren't you? This summer?"

Harry shrugged. "I thought about asking Remus if I could stay here."

"In his and Tonks' house?" Ginny was genuinely surprised.

"Not that I wouldn't want to live at The Burrow. It's just… here there would be less people and Remus is the last tie I have to my parents… and, well, really, I don't want to be a burden to your family any longer. Your mother would let me de-gnome the garden but here I could cook and clean and earn my keep. I don't want to be anyone's charity case."

"Harry, you've got it all wrong! Mum _loves_ you and Dad loves you as well, but he really likes having you around to explain all the Muggle stuff to him. Won't you miss Ron and Hermione? And me?"

"Yes. It was just a thought, Ginny. I hadn't really decided on anything yet. Perhaps I'll stay here once the summer is over and Apparate with Tonks to the Ministry for Auror training. That's what she's starting come September, you know. Doing practicals for Auror training."

"I thought only semi-retired Aurors trained the new people?"

"Er, well, Tonks hopes to be pregnant by September so she put in for a position change, effective this September."

Ginny smiled. "Oh! I love babies. I do hope they let me hold it once its born!"

"Mmm."

"Harry, are you all right?"

"I have a lot on my mind, Gin."

Ginny settled herself on Harry's chest, her hair fanned out over his arm. His arms went instinctively around her and he hugged her close.

"It'll be all right, Harry. Everything will turn out fine."

"Right."

"Do you want me to get that sleep potion so you can get some sleep tonight?"

"No."

"You haven't really been sleeping well lately. Only for a few hours at most."

"I know."

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I love you." Ginny sighed.

"Go to sleep, Gin," said Harry. And she did.

* * *

Far less romance was going on in Draco's bedroom as the blonde hair boy did push ups next to his bed. Rebecca laid across his bed, watching him, her head hanging over the edge of the mattress.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm antsy."

"Angsty is more like it."

Draco rolled his eyes, but Rebecca couldn't see his face, only the top of his platinum head.

"I'll help you clean your house once the fight with the Dark Lord is over."

"There's elves – to do – that," Draco said between deep breaths.

"Then, why so worried about your house?"

"Because – my – father is there."

"Oh."

"And I – don't want – to have to kill him."

Draco ceased doing push ups and flopped over on his back, breathing in deeply. Rebecca liked it when Draco didn't wear a shirt. His upper arms bulged and his chest was clearly defined, his stomach sectioned off into six squares of hard muscle. She didn't know when he acquired such a hard, fit body, but she figured it had something to do with being expected to become a Death Eater.

He told her once that his father didn't want him branded until he was out of Hogwarts – he didn't trust Dumbledore not to expel his son for bearing the Dark Mark. But, he'd forced Draco to attend Death Eater meetings on occasion and alluded to what they would be doing in coming attacks. Draco didn't care one way or the other about being a Death Eater. He figured it was the right thing to do – rid the world of half-bloods. Nothing was worse than being impure.

What caused him to change his mind and tell Snape all the information he knew from his father wasn't when Voldemort sent a group of Death Eaters to the Harris house. No, it was before, when Draco begged his father not to tell the Dark Lord he'd slept with a Mudblood, when he pleaded to just let her family be, and his father slapped his face and went through the secret door of the drawing room. That's when Draco knew he had to do something to protect these innocent people. The Dark Lord hadn't just ordered the murders of Rebecca and her mother. He ordered the murder of her father as well – a very respected Ministry employee who was of the purest blood.

"Bastard."

"What was that?" asked Rebecca.

Draco looked up at his bed. "I said, 'bastard.'"

"Your father?"

Draco looked away and nodded. "Yes. I didn't know you could hate someone so much."

"I thought you hated the other people in this house?"

"That's not real hate. They just annoy me. Potter's so righteous all the bloody time and Granger's a know-it-all. They make me sick."

"But, your father is real hate?"

"It hurts the way I hate him. It physically hurts and makes me want to vomit on his name."

"Oh, Draco, I wish I could make it better for you."

"Rebecca, let me ask you something."

"All right."

Draco propped himself up by his elbows. "Why are you here?"

"You know why I'm here—"

"No." Draco shook his head. "I don't mean this house. I mean, with me. I treat you terrible. I treat you like – like my father treated my mother."

"You didn't always. You loved me very much once; I could see it in your eyes. You were always a bit of a bastard, a right arsehole, but you never hurt me and you were, well… nice."

"Nice? I'm never nice. I'm spoiled and I try to hurt people on purpose. I intentionally got Hagrid's hippogriff sentenced to death."

"You changed. You're still a bastard, but you've changed. You're eighteen now; you're a man. I'm here because I'm still in love with you. I'm here because when I look at you I see potential to be a good person."

Draco scoffed at her.

"Well, perhaps 'good' was the wrong word. Let me put it to you this way. I see potential for you not to be anything like your father. You may still hate Muggles and half-bloods. There's not much I can do to force you to change your mind about all that. However, you won't go and kill them and you won't try to force misery upon them."

"I don't want to be _anything_ like my father."

"I know," whispered Rebecca.

"My mum told me how in love he was with her once. They met the summer after his seventh year at Hogwarts and he proposed after three months. She said he'd do anything for her. She didn't care much for the Dark Arts, but she didn't mind my father doing them. Then, one day, she said she woke up and he was different. He didn't love her like he used to love her. But, he was rich and I was just a baby so she didn't want to leave. Her family was obsessed with being Pure Bloods and my father was adored by the Blacks – except by Sirius. My mother might have hated Muggles and Mudbloods, but she was still _good_ in essence. She'd never hurt anyone. My father helped to put her in St. Mungo's. I'd never do that."

"Try to kill your wife? I'd hope not. You'll marry for love."

"I don't want to marry at all."

"You'll marry for love," Rebecca repeated. "There's a girl out there stupid enough to deal with your mood swings and your brooding and who will accept that you're a bastard." Rebecca laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"I was talking with the Weasley girl today and you sound exactly like Harry."

"I am nothing like Potter."

Rebecca shrugged. "Suit yourself. Well, you're different from him, I suppose, but you're very similar."

Draco laid back down on his back, choosing to ignore Rebecca.

"Draco, if I was a Pure Blood would you still be in love with me?"

"I never said I was in love with you."

"You did. Only once, but I didn't need to hear it more than that. I knew."

"Hand me a pillow." Draco sighed loudly and placed the pillow behind his head. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what sleep would feel like.

"I think, deep down, you still love me."

"Think what you want."

"Well, you made love to me last night."

Draco snorted. "That wasn't love. That was sex."

"You hurt me, y'know."

Draco's eyes flew open and he looked at Rebecca. "I did?"

Rebecca nodded. "Yeah… you really did."

Draco's eyes, which were filled with concern and worry at first, hardened and he closed them quickly. "Good. Maybe it'll teach you to stay away from me. I need to sleep, Rebecca. You should do the same."

Rebecca sighed. She wasn't very tired so she busied herself by watching Draco fall asleep, sure that underneath his ice cold exterior a piece of him was still warmed by love he still had for her.

* * *

_CRACK!_

Nymphadora Tonks appeared in the lounge and found the six house mates all dressed in jeans and jumpers despite the warming weather. Hermione had a leather knapsack by her feet which Tonks assumed contained the Invisibility Cloak and ingredients she needed for her potion.

"Everyone have their wands?"

There were six nods.

"Good. Come on." She pulled a box of sweets from her robes pocket and held it out. Seven hands touched the box and within a few minutes everyone felt the familiar tug on their stomachs and found themselves in the middle of the woods.

Lupin made his way over to Tonks and the "hexad." He kissed Tonks' temple, which caused Draco to look away disgusted, and looked at each teenager expectantly.

"Ready?" he asked.

There were six more nods.

"Good. Listen, we believe Voldemort is in the secret room underneath the floor. Harry, you know how to get to that room from your dream?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. Rebecca and Ron will go with you. We'll have two other Aurors accompany you as well. I daresay you might need the protect. Ron—"

Ron looked up. "Yes?"

"We want you to transform out here before you go in the house. I daresay, it might be too dangerous to wait until you're in there. We don't know how much time you'll have. The Aurors jobs are going to be to watch Harry and Rebecca so that Rebecca can fill the vial with Voldemort's blood – do you have the vial?"

Rebecca pulled a small glass tube from her jeans pocket.

"Good. And, Harry – you have the Sorting Hat?"

Harry lifted up his jumper; the Sorting Hat was tucked in the waistband of his jeans.

"Good, good. That's where you'll get the sword from… just like second year…" Remus coughed. "Hermione, you and Ginny are to stay underneath the Invisibility Cloak in the foyer of the house. Once Rebecca gives you the blood, the Death Eaters in the house will know where you are. It's too risky to Apparate—"

"Actually, I don't know how. I never got my license." Hermione blushed.

"Ah. Well, as I was saying, the Death Eaters will know where you are, which is why it's important for Ginny to stay _in front_ of Hermione at all times so she can finish the potion and the spell. Don't worry, we have two Aurors to help you as well. You'll have to make yourselves visible as soon as you see Rebecca, though, so she'll know where you are to give you the blood."

Ginny, Rebecca, and Hermione nodded.

"What am I suppose to do?" Draco asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You are going to go with another group and check the upstairs for any stray Death Eaters."

"You want me to kill them or something?"

Lupin shook his head. "No, no. Stun them and body bind them so they cannot escape."

"We want all the Death Eaters alive so we can send them to Azkaban," said Tonks. "We don't want to kill anyone unless it's _absolutely_ necessary. The Order of the Phoenix just isn't that way."

Draco nodded. "Sure. All right. Who goes with me?"

"Come on," said Tonks, "I'll introduce you."

Lupin watched Tonks lead Draco away before he turned back to the other five. "We're going to send in Draco and three Aurors first. Then, we want you all to go in next. There will be one more group after you – members of the Order. McGonagall thought it best to have the other members stay farther away from the fighting and ensure that all the exits are watched in case any Death Eaters try to flee from the house. We're not as… capable in a fight."

"Where _is_ McGonagall?" asked Harry.

"She's at Hogwarts. Snape is here, though. We're trying to keep him by the exits even though he can duel _extremely_ well. Since he's a former Death Eater he understands that his abilities are best suited in catching stray Eaters. We don't want there to be any vengeance killings – used by him or on him."

Harry nodded, understanding.

"All right, then. Ron, go ahead and change. Once you see Draco and his group enter the mansion, you lot are free to go next. Invisibility Cloak," Lupin said to Hermione. "I need to speak with Kingsley for a moment – but don't hesitate to use any means possible to save yourselves in there. I _mean_ it. I wouldn't want you there under any other circumstances, but seeing as the prophecy said what it said…" Lupin sighed. "Good luck."

Hermione took the Invisibility Cloak from her knapsack and looked at Ginny. Before she could cover the two of them up, Ron grabbed her arm.

"Wait," he whispered in her ear. "Be careful. I can't lose you."

Hermione nodded. She let Ron kiss her in front of Harry – something she tried her hardest to never let happen.

"Right, then." Ron let go of her arm and allowed himself to change.

Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek and wished him good luck before allowing herself to be enveloped by the cloak. She wrung her hands together nervously before taking her wand out of her pocket and clutching it tightly in her hand.

"Everything will be all right," whispered Hermione. She looked at Ginny. "Right?"

Ginny nodded. "Right," she whispered back.

"I'm terrified."

Ginny nodded again. "I am too! I told myself I wasn't going to cry out of fear."

Hermione rubbed Ginny's arm.

"What's that?"

Hermione looked at her hand. She smiled at the paper ring that fit snugly around her finger. "It's, well, a promise ring Ron gave me last night."

"A promise ring? Like a _marriage_ promise ring?"

Hermione cocked her head to the side. "Er, sort of. Oh, look, Draco's going. We should follow him out of the woods."

Hermione and Ginny walked with extreme caution so that neither of them would trip over any surfaced roots and risk being seen. They let Harry and Animal Ron enter the house with Rebecca in tow before they attempted to walk up the stone steps to the front doors.

* * *

Underneath the iron door stood Voldemort – red eyes leering – and five Death Eaters. Harry was easily able to knock everyone except Animal Ron to their feet by releasing whatever powerful emotion build up he had out. The two Aurors and Rebecca had stayed up in the drawing room until Harry yelled for them to come down so they would not be hurt by Harry's mental blast.

Harry was only able to Stun one of the Death Eaters before the other four were standing up, wands brandished, ready to fight. The Aurors flew down the stone steps to the hidden room, immediately dodging curses and throwing up shields.

Animal Ron pounced on Voldemort and slashed his claws across Voldemort's middle. A giant paw came down on the arm holding an eleven inch wand, claws digging into the Dark Wizard's flesh. Rebecca quickly filled the vial from the blood seeping from Voldemort's arm while one of the Aurors covered her. She ran from the room.

A slow force pushed Animal Ron from Voldemort's body and the Dark Lord was able to stand up. Animal Ron, realizing his defeat, let out a giant roar to get Harry's attention. Not hurt from Voldemort's wandless magic, Animal Ron turned and pounced on one of the Death Eaters, sending him skidding across the floor. One of the Aurors stunned him while Animal Ron felt something gripping him around his neck, trying to strangle him.

* * *

Hermione and Ginny both emerged from the cloak as Rebecca released the vial into Hermione's hand. From the knapsack Hermione took a tiny cauldron. With a quick wave of her wand the cauldron doubled in size. Ginny looked away from Hermione as she heard footsteps running towards her.

"I thought Harry said all the Death Eaters left the house!" Ginny cried.

The two Aurors held out their wands, ready to duel. Ginny and Rebecca stood in front of Hermione while the girl put in the bound ingredients of hair, bone, and root into the cauldron. She began to speak in a different language – Latin – and poured the blood over the other ingredients. She continued to chant, the same lines over and over again.

Ginny could hear sizzling and boiling from the cauldron as several Death Eaters came down the stairs, their faces hidden by their black hoods. Ginny's pulse quickened. People weren't so scary in dark hoods when they were wearing orange sneakers. _Real _Death Eaters, though, were terrifying.

Curses began to fly back and forth, shields were brought up, and strayed hexes hit walls and suits of armor, causing dust and rubble to fall all around.

Ginny watched in horror as a green ray of magic hit one of the Aurors, sending him flying against the stone wall lifeless. She pointed her wand straight at a Death Eater and yelled at the top of her lungs.

"_STUPEFY!_"

Whether or not it was Ginny's spell that sent the Death Eater flying backwards, no one knew, because at that exact instant, the mixture inside Hermione's cauldron exploded, sending out a force that knocked everyone backwards, much like Harry's wandless magic did only a few minutes before in the secret room. A thick blanket of smoke blinded Ginny, Rebecca, and Hermione as they crawled to the corner of the foyer by the front entrance to the mansion.

Each girl held their wands in front of them, willing themselves to see something – _anything_.

"Did it work?" Ginny whispered urgently, trying not to cough.

"I don't know, but, I think so."

"You _think_ so?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, no, it worked. I did everything right. It worked. I'm sure of it."

* * *

Everything was quiet upstairs. Draco asked one of the Death Eaters he found sleeping in one of the many guest rooms why there were so many Death Eaters here when so many left the night before.

With a smile the Death Eater responded, "Only twenty of us left yesterday to attack Dijon. But, the Dark Lord has over a hundred followers by now. This is our residence now."

Draco had stunned the man and bound him. He followed the Aurors into the other rooms where other Death Eaters slept. The ones downstairs must have been on the tail end of the night shift duty. The ones upstairs were all sleeping or just barely rousing from slumber. Draco stunned all of them. He wanted nothing more than to kill each Death Eater – he didn't know which ones tried to kill Rebecca's family so he might as well kill them all.

"Draco," one of the Aurors hissed at him, motioning him forward. "This is the last door on the corridor. It's locked and we can't open it. Is there a password?"

Draco looked at the door. He swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes. I need to go in this room alone." Draco held up his hand to silence the Aurors when they began to protest. "Please. I _need _to go in here alone. Check upstairs – there're more guest rooms up there."

The Aurors nodded and ran back down the corridor to the staircase.

Draco pointed his wand at the door. "_Pur toujours_." The door clicked open and he walked boldly inside.

A man with long silver hair stood by the window looking out at one of the gardens directly below. He turned around, his lifeless eyes looking colder than ever, and a smile crossed his face.

"Ah, Draco, I wondered when you'd be coming in here."

Draco straightened up. "Father," he greeted icily.

"I heard you disappeared from school. No one knew where you were. And, ah-ha! Here you are, fighting on the side of 'Good.' I'm _ashamed_ of you."

"Don't waste your time being ashamed of me."

"I'm embarrassed to call you my son. You have ruined the good name of Malfoy! You consummated with a _Mudblood_ and had the nerve to ask me to spare her life."

"Yes, Father, I did."

"You are not fit to be in this houses." Lucius raised his wand at the same time Draco raised his. "I won't hesitate to kill you, Draco."

"Neither will I."

"Put the wand down, Draco."

"No. You could even let me have _one_ indiscretion! It wasn't Rebecca's fault! I didn't _know_ she wasn't a Pure Blood. She was in my House, Father! She was in my House! Why did you have to try and kill her?"

"Stop whining! She wasn't killed, was she? You saw to that. _Severus_ saw to that."

Draco swallowed against a lump in his throat. "You didn't care about me at all. You cared about money and _power_. You let Mum be tortured to the point of insanity and you let the Dark Lord send Wizards out to kill the _one_ girl I ever loved. _Why_? I'll tell you why – for power. If I disgrace the name of Malfoy, then so be it. _You_, Father, disgust _me_."

Lucius shook his head in disbelief.

The two Malfoys stood across from each other in the room, wands pointed towards each other, waiting for the other to say the words first, daring the other to be done with it.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

Green light soared through the air as if in slow motion, leaving one of the blonde haired Wizards lifeless on the floor.

* * *

**To Be Continued…**


	36. Chapter Thirty Six

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

The smoke was still thick in the foyer, but Hermione was able to start making out movement in front of her. The sounds of black robes rustling as Death Eaters tried to stand up and make their way through the entry hall filled Hermione's ears. She stood up on her knees the same time the Auror did and they both cast stunning spells at the Death Eaters.

Hermione was able to deflect the curses that were thrown her way; the Auror did the same. The smoke began to clear and she could see more clearly the pile of black hooded bodies lying stiff on the stone floor. Things grew quiet and Hermione turned around to Rebecca and Ginny who were still seated in the corner behind her.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," they both said in unison.

"The three of you – get outside, go back to where the portkey brought you and stick together," the Auror whispered at them urgently.

"We want to fight," said Ginny, standing up with her wand tightly in her hand.

"No. The potions finished; your job is done. _Get outside_."

With that, the Auror fled through the foyer towards the corridor that led to the drawing room. Hermione frowned. She was not going to be told what to do. Reaching her hand down to help Rebecca stand up, she felt a powerful pop in the middle of her back. Her entire body felt as though it was on fire and her eyes blurred to almost complete darkness as the pain feasted upon her back and limbs.

Hermione had been so intent on staying and fighting, she paid no attention to the Death Eater hiding behind the suit of armor who yelled out, "_Crucio!_" and watched her fall to the floor.

* * *

Harry heard an explosion only moments before he watched Voldemort sink to his knees. The fighting between the Aurors and Death Eaters ceased while they watched in horror and wonderment the killing of Voldemort's soul. Animal Ron had long since flung the man who tried to strangle him across the room and was now sitting on the Death Eater's stomach, watching with his cat-shaped blue eyes.

Voldemort held out his arms and threw his head back, emitting a throaty, tortured scream. Red light flew from his fingertips and out of his opened eyes. Harry took the Sorting Hat from his waistband and reached inside to pull out the sword of Gryffindor. The hat fell to the floor as Harry clutched the sword tightly in his two hands.

The red light and horrible scream stopped as suddenly as they began. Voldemort brought his head forward and stared at Harry with two evil, red eyes. He opened his mouth and the room watched as a ball of white light escaped from Voldemort's lips and rose into the air. The ball exploded, white light bouncing off the walls, and Harry knew it meant that Voldemort's soul was dead.

Now nothing but the shell of a Dark Wizard, Voldemort stood up on his feet and took out his wand. His movements were so slow they seemed almost static. Harry brought the sword back, his elbows bending, before lunging forward. The sharp tip of the blade went straight through Voldemort's chest, through his heart. Harry pushed the sword into Voldemort's body until the entirety of it was encompassed by cold flesh. Only then did Harry withdraw the sword and let it drop to the stone floor with a loud clank, the only sound in the room.

Voldemort dropped to his knees, blood trickling from his opened mouth and small slits he had for a nose. He fell over onto the floor, coating it with a thick, sticky blanket of blood. The Death Eaters in the room yelled out in pain, clutching their arms were the Dark Mark was branded onto their skin.

Harry felt his scar prickle sharply and he rubbed at it. He looked down at his hands; they were covered in blood. He felt sick. He wanted to vomit. He needed to leave the room immediately. And he did. Fleeing from the secret room, Harry ran through the house and instinctively found a back door.

He didn't stop running.

* * *

An hour later the house seemed eerily quiet. Ron and one of the Aurors left the room after the Death Eaters had been stunned and bound. Bodies lay on the floor in every room of the house. Some twitched from the aftermath of the curses while others were stiff from death. Ron and the Auror met Lupin the dining room. His clothes were torn and his face appeared slashed.

"The Aurors tell me the house has been completely searched and all the Death Eaters have been found." Lupin glanced at Ron. "You can change back into a human, now."

Relieved, Ron transformed back into his normal Ron self. He shook out his body in hopes of releasing some of the tension that was building up in his muscles.

"Is everyone all right?" Ron asked. "Where's Hermione and Ginny?"

Lupin's eyes darkened slightly. "They're in the foyer." He grabbed Ron's arm before Ron had a chance to run out of the room. "There has been more death here tonight than any of us has ever seen before, Ron. People are injured – you are _extremely_ lucky that you're unharmed. One of our members Apparated to the Ministry so Healers from St. Mungo's are on their way right now to transport people back to the hospital. Ministry Law Enforcement is coming as well to take care of the Death Eaters."

"Why are you telling me this?" Ron asked, suddenly feeling a bit ill.

"Because, I don't want you to do anything rash. The right people will take care of things."

"She's hurt, isn't she?"

Lupin nodded. "Yes," he whispered. "Don't move her body, though. Stones from the wall and paintings and bits of armor all fell in that foyer. The Auror told me she was hit with a curse, however, I daresay, if she couldn't move out of the way of debris…"

Ron began to shake uncontrollably. He removed his arm from Lupin's grasp and ran into the entrance hall. Two Aurors and one of the members of the Order were undoing the masks of the Death Eaters. Ron ignored the revealed faces and ran towards the front doors, skidding as he tried to stop.

Mad-Eye was levitating bits of rock and armor from the corner. His magical eye turned towards Ron and he grimaced.

"Your sister's there," he said.

Ron turned around and found Ginny and Rebecca sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall. Their clothes were torn, their faces dirty, and their skin cut up. Both of their heads tilted up to look at him, eyes rimmed with red, tears making trails down their cheeks.

"What happened?"

"Oh, Ron, it was awful," said Ginny.

"What _happened_?" Ron asked again.

"Hermione did the potion and there was all this smoke. She and the Auror started stunning the Death Eaters through the smoke. I would have helped but I still couldn't see anything."

"Neither could I," added Rebecca, sniffling.

"Then, the smoke cleared and there didn't appear to be any more Death Eaters."

"But, one was hiding," continued Rebecca. "Behind the suit of armor, and she yelled out _Crucio_ and Hermione started having these… convulsions. Then, two more Death Eaters came out and we tried to fight them, only one of the curses bounced off one of…"

"One of _my_ shields," said Ginny. "It hit the ceiling and part of the ceiling collapsed."

Ron looked up. A large chunk of stone was missing from above. It lay in rubble all around his feet.

"Hermione kept _twitching_," said Rebecca.

"There was still some rubbish on her from the stray curse, but Mad-Eye's taking care of that now." Ginny looked at her brother with large sad eyes. He saw how young she looked with her red eyes and nose from crying and how much she needed him to comfort her, to tell her it wasn't her fault. Later, though. Now, he needed to go to Hermione. His little sister would live – no one said whether or not Hermione would.

* * *

Arthur Weasley looked frantically around the house for his children. He was in fairly good shape, compared to the Aurors and a few other members of the Order; he managed to leave the fighting with only a few good bruises from dodging curses.

"Oh, Severus!"

Professor Snape stopped and turned around. He had several deep cuts along his cheeks that would have to be healed at St. Mungo's and a limp that he had been trying to hide since the fighting ended.

"Arthur," Snape greeted in his long, drawn out, crisp voice. "I see that you are all right."

"Yes, yes. Have you seen my children?"

Snape cocked his head back a bit. "I saw your eldest boy in the dining room with Lupin."

"I saw Bill, yes, but have you seen Ron or Ginny?"

Snape nodded towards the front entrance. "In the foyer, I presume, with Granger. They were fine but it might help to subdue your boy some. His behavior would have me deduct serious house points if we were at Hogwarts."

Confused by what Snape was saying, but thrilled that his children were all right, Arthur made his way through the mansion and into the entrance hall. His youngest son was seated by Hermione, holding one of her hands in his. Ron's back was turned so Arthur couldn't see his face.

"Daddy!"

Arthur whipped his head around and saw his daughter running up to him. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, beginning to cry again.

"Ah, Ginny, are you all right?" He pushed her back, his hands on her shoulders, and studied her appearance.

"I'm fine. Just shakey. I've never been so frightened before."

"You were extremely brave today – going into this Final Battle, knowing what might happen. I'm very proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad." Ginny tried to force a smile. "You sound a bit like Mum, though."

Arthur laughed. "Mum's at St. Mungo's right now. She wanted to be here, she really did, but I wouldn't allow it. I had three of my children here – we didn't need the rest of the family losing both parents, now did we?"

Ginny shook her head. "Why's Mum at St. Mungo's?"

"They needed volunteers to ready more rooms and beds," said Arthur. "This is an Official Ministry Disaster Zone."

"_Really_?" asked Ginny in awe.

Arthur nodded. "We'll take you to St. Mungo's after the most serious cases have been taken care of. Get some of those cuts healed so you won't have scars."

"Dad? Have you seen Harry?"

Arthur straightened up. "Harry? Er, we should talk about that later – oh, he's all right. He's just not here in the house. I suspect he's out walking the grounds and I'd like it if you left him alone, Ginevra, all right?" Arthur looked towards his son. "How is _he_?"

"Ron? Having a fit. Moody had to threaten to stun him if he didn't calm down. Hermione was hit with the Cruciatus Curse."

Arthur paled. "For how long?"

Ginny swallowed. "Really long. Several minutes. How long were Neville's parents exposed to the curse?"

"I don't know."

"Hermione hasn't woken up yet. I've studied the curses enough in Defense to know that she won't die, but if she wakes up she might be insane."

Arthur nodded. He turned his head back around and several Healers Apparated into the mansion. They all looked around at the debris and bodies and looked stricken with horror.

"Why don't we see if they need any help? You're strong enough to help, aren't you?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes."

"Let's make ourselves useful. It'll help get our minds off those we – those we lost."

Arthur led his daughter towards the main Healer who was handing out instructions, to offer their assistance.

* * *

All of the Death Eaters who had been stunned were given _Ennervate_ to revive them. Ministry officials took the conscious, but bound, Death Eaters to magical holding cells near Azkaban where they would await trial. Severely wounded and unconscious Death Eaters and members of the Order were transported immediately to St. Mungo's. The Death Eaters went with Law Enforcement officials to ensure they wouldn't escape.

Guthrie Levski, the Head Healer and member of the Order, stayed behind to fix minor cuts and abrasions. He didn't want his already overcrowded hospital to receive any more patients than necessary. Going room to room, Guthrie healed cuts and mended mildly broken bones, telling each patient the exact potion they needed to get in case of any sudden pain.

"Thank you for your help," he told Ginny as he healed the scrapes on her face.

"I didn't do much."

"You helped levitate patients and bind bones that needed more than a simple wave of the wand or potion to heal. You are very good with ailing people. You should think of becoming a Healer."

Ginny blushed. "Thanks."

Guthrie finished with Ginny and made his way up the stairs. The rooms were all vacant – thank god. He was tired and sore from hours of work without a break. He entered the last room on the corridor, hoping this room would also be empty. No such luck. Guthrie recognized the two blonde men on the floor – one unconscious and one dead.

"Remus!" Guthrie called out, seeing Remus walk down the flight of stairs from the level above.

Lupin stopped, turned, and walked down the corridor towards Guthrie.

"I was checking all the rooms upstairs," he said. "They've all been cleaned out by the Ministry."

"I thought you needed to see this." Guthrie moved out of the doorway.

Lupin looked inside the room and sighed loudly. "Oh, shit. They hated each other."

Guthrie nodded. "I know. Out of all the Death Eaters here, only two died. One had his head bashed in by the falling ceiling near the front entrance. The other was Voldemort himself. I know the Order and I know no one would use the Killing Curse. However, I don't need a Coroner to tell me that Malfoy is dead by _Avada Kedavra_."

Lupin rubbed his eyes. "I'm too old for this rubbish."

"I just thought you should see. I'll get the one to St. Mungo's. The Ministry is taking care of the deceased, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"All right. You should get some rest – go to St. Mungo's and see your wife. She'll be awake by now and, knowing her, knocking everything over."

Lupin couldn't help but smile a little bit – he always did smile whenever anyone brought up Tonks.

"Thanks, Guth, for all your help."

"It's over now," said Guthrie. "That's the important thing; it's finally over."

* * *

Ron remembered crying over the Christmas holiday when they all thought Harry was dead. It was nothing compared to the way he was crying now. He cried quietly, but hard, his whole body shaking with the intensity of it. Her white bed sheets were getting wet from his tears. Ron wiped at his eyes and took in several deep breaths.

From behind him he heard the door to the room open and shut. The person behind him walked too slowly to be a Healer come to check on Hermione.

"Ronnie?"

Ron shut his eyes tight. "Hi, Mum." He forced himself to turn around and look at his mother. His eyes were blood shot and his skin was dangerously pale.

"Oh, Ron!"

"They can't make her wake up and they said that if she ever wakes up she might have brain damage from the spell – _if_ she wakes up."

Mrs. Weasley looked as though she were trying with all of her strength not to cry. Ron was upset enough for the both of them.

"They told you about the prophecy, right? What if the part of one of us being left behind didn't mean death but _this_? What if Hermione's the one left behind because she can never wake up or be herself ever again?" Tears slipped down Ron's face.

Mrs. Weasley walked over to her son and held him close to her; he was nearly her height even though he was seated. She released him and took in a deep breath.

"The rest of us are going home"—

Ron's body tensed up; he didn't want to leave Hermione.

"—but, I'm not going to make you come if you want to stay here. If you want to come home, please do it by Floo or portkey. You're so upset you might splinch yourself if you try and Apparate."

"Yes, Mum."

"Ginny's going to say good-bye. We'll be back tomorrow if we don't see you at home first." Mrs. Weasley patted Ron's shoulder before she left the room.

Ginny came in the room next. Ron noticed her cuts were healed and her face cleaned of dirt and dust. She looked past her brother at the girl lying in the hospital bed.

"Talk to her."

"What?"

Ginny's gaze returned to Ron. "Talk to her. Healers say that when you're unconscious you can still hear what's going on around you. She might wake up quicker if she knows you're here."

Ron nodded. "All right, I will."

"Malfoy's dead."

"What? Draco?"

Ginny shrugged. "I heard a couple of Healers talking in the hall. One of the Malfoys is dead, the other one is on this floor somewhere being treated. I couldn't find out which one died, though… Most of the rooms are locked."

Ron found himself hoping Draco wasn't dead – something he'd never dreamed he'd be hoping. But, Draco helped them; he warned Snape about attacks and gave him information about Voldemort. Draco helped in the Final Battle. It wouldn't be fair for him to be dead.

"Where's Rebecca?"

"I don't know. Her ankle was worse than we thought. I looked for her as well, but I don't know if they released her already."

Mrs. Weasley popped her head back in the door. "Ginny? It's time to go."

Ginny kissed her brother's cheek and gave him a short hug. "Talk to her," she said as she left the room.

Ron turned back to Hermione. He picked up her hand and played with the paper ring on her finger.

"Er, Ginny says to talk to you, but I don't know what to say." He paused. "I guess I'll just babble – I'm good at that." He paused again. "I must've done a good Unbreakable Charm 'cause your ring is still on your finger. It's a little dirty though… If you wake up, I still promise to make you happy and one day get a job where I can buy you an actual ring – a really nice one that even Malfoy wouldn't care scoff at.

"If you wake up, I promise to study for NEWTs," continued Ron. "There's still little over a month before we have to take them, anyway. And if you don't wake up you won't be able to even take the NEWTs and I know how you love taking tests.

"Shit, Hermione, _please_ wake up? Fuck, I'm crying again."

Ron wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his t-shirt.

The door opened behind him and a Healer walked in. "Hello, Mr. Weasley," the young Healer said. "I've come to check on Miss Granger again. Why don't you go to the tea room and get something to eat? This'll take me a few minutes and you cannot be in the room…"

Ron understood. Healers had been tossing him out of the room while they checked on Hermione all afternoon and evening. He left the room and walked down the hall. For once in his life, he didn't feel compelled to eat. Perhaps he could find out if Draco was killed or not. Stopping a busy looking Healer in the corridor, Ron tried to smile.

"Er, I'm a friend of the Malfoys. I was wondering where his room was."

The Healer narrowed his eyes. "I just got on shift so I don't know any of the new patients' rooms. Ask someone else."

"I, uh, couldn't find anyone else. Please?"

The Healer frowned and pointed down the hall. "Somewhere down there. One of the last couple of doors, I think."

"Thanks."

Ron hurried off down the corridor. The last two doors were locked, but the knob to the third door turned and Ron opened the door slightly and peered inside. A white blonde bloke lay in the hospital bed curled up, sleeping soundly. Satisfied, Ron closed the door and walked slowly back towards Hermione's room. He made a mental note to remember to tell his sister that Draco was alive.

Ron heard the screaming before he reached Hermione's room. He dashed off towards her room, inwardly knowing that it was her who was screeching. Three Healers entered the room before him and he squeezed in behind them.

Hermione was sitting up on the bed, tears streaming down her face, screaming loudly. She struggled against the Wizards who were trying to hold her back down. Her head turned toward Ron, her eyes wide, and he saw the look of uncharacteristic pain and rage behind them.

* * *

To Be Continued…  
  
A/N: Yes. Liger's exist. You can find info about them on the internet.  
  
Only two more chapters left............  



	37. Chapter Thirty Seven

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

"_Stop it!_" shouted Ron at the top of his lungs.

Two of the Healers went to hold Ron back, but he resisted and ran to Hermione's bed. He saw the fear and pain in her eyes and wanted nothing more than to take it away.

"Get _off_ me! Let her go!"

"Son," one of the Healers said, "we're trained for this sort of thing – you're just a child. Let us do our job!"

Ron wheeled around to face the short brown haired Wizard. "But, you're scaring her! If you'd stop trying to hold her down and let _me_ comfort her she'll calm down."

"Son—"

"I promise." Ron stood up a little bit straighter.

The Healer nodded at the other Witches and Wizards to move out of the way. Hermione's screams lessened and she curled herself up into a tight ball at the head of the bed. Ron sat down in the chair he abandoned only minutes before and reached a hand out to smooth her hair away from her face. Tears fell silently from her brown eyes and Ron brushed those away.

"Hey, it's me… Don't cry."

Outwardly Ron was keeping it together. He spoke in a calm, collected voice, saying nothing but soothing things. Inside, though, he was praying – praying to gods, prophecies, destinies, fates, anything that could help determine how Hermione would fare after being hit with that curse. If she wasn't all right, Ron wasn't sure if _he'd_ be all right; part of him just might die if he couldn't have Hermione back the way she was.

His voice was calming her down though. Her breathing slowed and she closed her eyes as if to go back to sleep. Chancing a glance at the Healers, Ron looked up just as Guthrie walked in.

"Out, out," he ordered all of the other Healers bossily. He went to the other side of Hermione's bed and used a weird looking instrument to listen to her heart beat. Then, he set down a tray full of potions on the bedside table. "I see she's calmed down."

Ron nodded. "I just think she was scared…"

"Mmm." Guthrie looked over Hermione, nodding and mumbling to himself. "I'm going to send one of our intern-Healers to go to the kitchens to get Miss Granger some food. Perhaps it would be best if you stayed and helped her try and eat? She needs to drink a couple of these potions as well. They're healing potions and they should help with the pain from the curse. The bruises she got from the collapsed ceiling weren't healed in time, so the potions should help with any pain from those as well."

"Thanks," said Ron.

"It's not, er, standard policy to let someone stay with our patients after visiting hours are over—"

Ron looked up, alarmed. He'd have to leave?

"—but, seeing as you helped kill You-Know-Who, I'll pretend you're not here. Just… don't make any noise, all right?"

Ron nodded. "Thank you very much."

"Mmm." Guthrie walked out of the door and shut it behind him.

When Ron looked back down at Hermione she was watching him with wide eyes. He gave her a smile. "Did you hear me when I was talking to you earlier?"

Hermione didn't speak, only nodded.

Feeling motivated, Ron continued, "I told you I'd study for the NEWTs? I will, I promise." He picked up her hand and touched the paper ring. "And I'll do better than paper one day, too. You won't have to wear this."

Hermione snatched back her hand and tucked it under her chin so Ron couldn't touch it anymore.

"Hey, okay, okay, you can wear it as long as you want to. Er…" Ron scratched his head and tried to think of things to say. "Does it hurt much?"

Hermione didn't respond.

"Can you talk?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Oh, good, you know what I'm saying, though?"

She nodded.

"Good. I thought you were going to wake up insane like Neville's parents. You'll be okay, won't you?"

Hermione's eyes flew towards the door and she sat up, still in a small ball, pressing as much of her body as she could against the headboard. The hospital room door opened slowly and a short, young looking witch entered carrying a covered tray.

"That's your food, 'Mione," said Ron.

Hermione turned her head and stared at Ron. Immediately he realized he'd never used a nickname on her before; he couldn't tell whether or not she was offended.

"Uh huh. Here, it's some lovely lamb and Shepard's pie and pumpkin juice," the witch said. "And some pudding, too."

"I'll take it," said Ron, reaching for the tray.

The witch looked at him skeptically.

"It's all right. I know Guthrie Levski; he said it was okay."

"Uh huh. Well, here. Try to make her eat something. She's probably thirsty as well, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, all right, uh huh." The witch walked slowly out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Ron sat back down in the chair, placing the tray in his lap. Once the cover was off, the smell of freshly cooked food filled the room. He tried to coax Hermione to sit; when she wouldn't Ron moved to sit on her bed, putting the tray down to his side.

"Come here…"

Hermione moved away from the headboard and sat with her legs crossed in front of Ron. She grimaced in pain as she moved and it broke Ron's heart. He picked up the fork and knife and cut up the meat. His eyebrows raised as he offered her the fork, not sure whether or not she was going to be able to feed herself.

She took the fork from his hand and slowly ate the lamb. Her jaw moved little by little as she chewed.

"Does it hurt?"

She nodded.

Ron rested his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, watching Hermione as she ate.

"Er… You know how I am and everything, right?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron, giving him a look that was clearly Hermione. He smiled.

"I should have known. Why won't you talk? Does it hurt to talk or something?"

Hermione nodded and continued to eat.

"Why were you screaming?" Ron waited for an answer but sniggered at himself. "Right. Umm… Were you screaming because you were in pain?"

Hermione shook her head and shrugged.

"Scared?"

Another head shake.

"Uh…" Ron racked his brain. "Oh! There's parchment in the bedside table. Can you write it?" Ron reached over to the table and took the pad of parchment and quill and handed it to Hermione. He watched her write in her curly joined-up handwriting an answer. Handing him the piece of paper, Hermione picked up the glass of pumpkin juice and avoided her eyes as Ron read her words.

"You woke up in the middle of a nightmare?"

Hermione nodded.

"And you couldn't tell if the Healers were Death Eaters or not? Were you still dreaming a bit when you woke up?"

She nodded again, suddenly flinching.

"Hey, Guthrie left these. He said to drink them because they'd help with the pain."

Hermione, who never liked taking potions much in the past, eagerly took the bottles. Putting them to her lips, she drank a sip from each. Ron, noticing that the tray of food was clean, put the tray on the floor and reached out to smooth down her frizzy hair.

"You act as though it hurts to move at all."

Hermione nodded. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a raspy sounding grunt.

"It's all right. You can talk some other time. It's kind of nice, though, being able to talk while you can't. I can make you angry and there's nothing you can say to me! I might grow to like this power."

A yawn overtook Hermione and Ron moved from the bed, making her lay down. He pulled the blankets over her as she settled on her side, her eyes still opening, looking at him as he sat down in the chair.

"Do you want me to let you sleep?"

Hermione shook her head.

"All right, then. Do you want me to just talk to you?"

She nodded and tried to smile, although Ron could tell it hurt; he wondered just how much. A shiver came over him and he wrapped his arms around himself as he cleared his throat to speak.

"What should I talk about? The, uh, fighting?" Ron could tell by the look on Hermione's face that this was not the time. "All right. How about I talk about Quidditch, then?" He was truly taken aback when Hermione nodded. Starting out with a description of the feel of a broom under him as he flew and ending with the day he saw the Cannons play live on his eleventh birthday when his dad took him and Ginny to a game as a surprise, he noticed that Hermione's eyes were growing heavier and heavier. Finally, her breathing evened out and she fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning Ron woke up with a powerful crick in his neck. Apparently he fell asleep with his head on Hermione's bed, still sitting in his chair. The sounds of his mother and sister's voices roused him from his dream and he blinked several times, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Shh!" he hissed violently at his family. "She's still sleeping."

Mrs. Weasley motioned for Ron to follow her out of the room. Once they were safely out in the corridor Mrs. Weasley looked at her son expectantly.

"What?"

"Don't 'what' me. How is she doing?"

"Oh. Well, yesterday she woke up screaming—"

"That's what Guthrie said," interrupted Mrs. Weasley.

"She was having a nightmare and woke up in pain and, I think, she was still dreaming when her eyes opened so all the Healers rushing into the room scared her. Mum, it's awful. Every time she moves you can see her almost cry from the pain."

Ginny looked away from Ron, not wanting to show her own discomfort at this news.

"Has she spoken yet?"

Ron shrugged. "She did a bit last night, but it hurts her throat so much when she tries to. Guthrie said she'd be all right – that after two weeks or so she'd probably be able to leave and go home."

"Yes, that's what he said to us as well," said Mrs. Weasley. "I don't want to disturb her while she's sleeping." She pulled her son into an unexpected hug.

"Mum, you're going to crush me."

"Oh, stop!" Mrs. Weasley released Ron. "I'm very proud of you. I told Ginny last night when we were home how proud I was of her, but, now, I'm saying it to you. I'm _very_ proud of both of you."

"The prophecy said we had to or You-Know-Who would live."

"Plenty of Wizards would have stayed home in their beds, but not my Ronnie. Now, the prophecy's fulfilled and Voldemort's gone so we can go on with our lives."

"Er, the prophecy still isn't fulfilled," said Ron.

Mrs. Weasley looked confused, but when Ron glanced at his little sister he realized she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"It said that one of us would be permanently left behind. Hermione's going to be all right; Draco's not dead; obviously, Ginny and I are standing right here. Say, is Rebecca all right?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes. She stayed with Lupin last night to get rest and sort of 'collect herself' she said. She'll be back at Hogwarts in the next few days."

"Where's Harry?" asked Ron, suddenly aware that he hadn't seen his friend since he ran out of the secret room at Malfoy Mansion.

Ginny's jaw suddenly grew tight and she clamped her mouth shut, allowing her mother to answer this bit of questioning.

"He's at Lupin's," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh. I would have thought he'd be here – at least at some point. Hermione's one of his best mates, after all."

"Yes, well, Harry's not speaking to anyone," snapped Ginny.

"Ginevra, don't use that tone with your brother."

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"What? He's not talking to anyone? Why not?"

"Well, if he was talking to us, we'd know." Ginny tapped her foot against the floor and crossed her arms over her chest.

"He's just brooding. He'll come out of it. He always does."

"Harry's still not used to people caring about him," said Mrs. Weasley. "I reckon a few owls and visits will help to bring him out of his shell a bit. "He'll be all right."

The tone in his mother's voice told Ron that she wasn't so sure Harry would be all right. Ron didn't like the sound of it. Voldemort was gone. There should be a celebration – with lots of people, food, and drink; there shouldn't be brooding.

"I was speaking with Minerva last night about your return to Hogwarts—"

"When is that supposed to be?" interrupted Ron.

"Soon. You have NEWTs."

"Bugger the NEWTs. I'm not going back without Harry and Hermione."

"Me neither," Ginny spoke up.

"Our family doesn't 'bugger' anything," barked Mrs. Weasley.

"I'm eighteen – I've been of age for over a year. I don't have to go back."

Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips. "You are not going to throw away your education like Fred and George did!"

"They're doing just fine with their joke shop—"

"Is _that_ what you want to do? Make _jokes_ for a living?"

"Well, no—"

"Then, go back to Hogwarts and take the NEWTs!"

"But—"

"Ronald Weasley, you can_not_ stay in this hospital forever!"

"It's not forever it's just until—"

Mrs. Weasley put her hands up to silence Ron. "I'm not going to hear it. You're going back to Hogwarts in a few days and that's final – with or without Hermione."

"But—"

"How do you expect her to go back to school if she still can't talk?"

Ron's shoulders slumped down; he sighed. "All right."

"You can always send her letters; I'm sure Pig would like the exercise."

"Yeah." Ron didn't want to accept the fact he had been defeated. "Well, what are we going to do about Harry?"

"Well, he's seventeen – the _Dursleys_" – Mrs. Weasley said their name with a particular snarl – "are no longer his guardians; Sirius is gone; and I daresay he's not going to take commands from me. If Remus can't talk him into going back to Hogwarts… Well, then, I just don't know."

"I should Floo there and knock some sense into him," said Ginny.

"Don't go bothering Harry, dear."

"Someone has to."

"Mum," said Ron, "if he doesn't talk to Ginny he's certainly not going to talk to anyone else."

* * *

Ginny banged on Harry's door. Professor Lupin was at St. Mungo's with Tonks visiting the slue of patients that were admitted because of the last fight so she didn't feel compelled to keep her banging to a minimal.

"Harry James Potter – you open this door _right now_!" barked Ginny, sounding very much like Mrs. Weasley. "I'm not going anywhere until you open this door. You know how stubborn I am."

After another two minutes of loud pounding on the door, Ginny heard a squelching noise and she tried turning the doorknob again. The knob turned and she took in a deep breath and entered the room.

"Harry—"

"Please, don't try and lecture me, Gin."

Ginny crossed the room to where Harry was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the wall underneath the open window. Her eyes were filling with tears as she sat down facing him. There were still cuts and bruises on his face and arms that he hadn't bothered getting healed; some of them looked particularly nasty and Ginny knew he'd have more scars to show for it.

"I wasn't going to lecture you. I was going to ask you why you've been ignoring my letters. Harry?"

He finally looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot and glassy. "Look at my hands."

Ginny's eyes traveled down from Harry's face to his hands. They were normal boy hands – large with average sized fingers and slightly callused palms from gripping a broomstick so often during Quidditch.

"They were covered in blood. When I stabbed him his heart exploded. Blood leaked out from the wound and his mouth and… it was everywhere. These hands? – killed Voldemort. I'm a murderer now."

"Harry, no, you're not. You had to kill him – there was no choice."

"There's always a choice, Gin. I feel like a murderer anyway. I don't want anyone to look at me. I just… When the potion worked, and his soul was expelled from his body, he was just a shell, but he still could feel pain. I didn't just kill him, I physically hurt him. Now he's gone… dead… and I'm sitting here feeling like the Ministry should be sending me to Azkaban. I know they won't so I wonder what's the point?"

"The point of what?"

"My life. I have no more purpose. I'm the Boy-Who-Lived-_Again_. What if I go back to Hogwarts and can't sleep? What if I get all agitated again? Hogwarts has a lot of memories of Voldemort – the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, the Tri-Wizard Tournament… I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore, Gin."

"You're supposed to come back to Hogwarts and be with _me_," answered Gin, although her tone made it sound almost like a plea.

Harry looked away from her. "I'm a murderer, Gin. You don't want to be with me."

"Yes, I do! I always have and I always will." Ginny reached out and caressed his cheek, trying to gently move his head so he'd look at her again. "You're my one, remember? There can't be anyone else for me. And, then, after Hogwarts you're supposed to come to The Burrow and apply to Auror programs or the Defense teaching position – whatever you want. _That's_ your point, Harry. And be with me," she added quietly.

"That's not good enough."

Ginny's mouth clamped shut. What did he just say?

"I'll come back to Hogwarts – to take the NEWTs – but I can't make you any promises, Gin. I have… figure things out. I know you think you love me—"

"What are you on about, Harry? You know I love you. Why are you doubting me now?"

"Just… I'm doubting everything right now. I know the prophecies said one of us had to die, but I keep wondering if we did the right thing."

"Of course we did."

"What if the last prophecy made was meant to prevent us from forming a hexad?"

"Harry!" cried Ginny. "Don't talk like that! _Please_. It was meant to happen _this_ way."

"Perhaps. Look, Gin, I love you… I mean, I know I do, really. But, this is all too much for me. I'll need some time to just figure things out."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"No. I just need time to figure things out – not things about you, things about me. You need to use that time to make sure you really want to be with me knowing that I shoved a sword through a man's heart without thinking about whether or not I would regret it. I don't care how evil Voldemort was, I still _killed_ a man. Just think about what you want from me, all right? I need to think about what I want from me as well."

Ginny nodded. "Okay," she squeaked. "I can do that. So, you're going to go to Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Er, tomorrow. Lupin's making me go back tomorrow anyway. That's when he's going back – in time for lessons on Monday and he doesn't want me staying here without him any longer. It'll be all right. Are you and Ron and Hermione going to be there?"

"You haven't asked about Hermione," said Ginny quietly. "She's… going to be all right, but Ron says every time she wakes up she does it screaming from the nightmares and the pain in her dreams. The Healer in Charge at St. Mungo's said it's because in her dreams she can feel the physical pain while she sleeps. Her dreams are really memories being played over and over again."

"Like a broken record."

"A broken what?"

"Never-mind."

"Anyway," continued Ginny, "she'll be all right. The nerves in her body are still rejuvenating themselves or something like that. She can't talk because of the pain in her throat and you should see my brother… he looks miserable himself every time she tries to move because the pain is just _written_ on her face."

"When's she going back to Hogwarts?"

"Once she can talk again, I think. And once she can move without too much pain. Right now she wouldn't be able to walk down the corridors between classes without collapsing from the pain. The curse was set on her for far too long."

"How long?"

"Minutes."

"Minutes? Like five minutes? Ten minutes? Thirty minutes?"

Ginny shrugged. "Probably twenty or so. Rebecca and I had no idea how to stop the curse. We tried to get the Death Eater with a stunner but she kept dodging them and the curse wasn't lifted until the ceiling collapsed on us and the Death Eater was forced to lift her spell or risk being crushed to death."

"Was she?"

"Was she what?"

"Crushed to death?"

"No, but, the Auror was able to get her stunned and bound and she's awaiting trial with the others."

Harry nodded. "Good. They all deserve Azkaban."

Overcome with a need to touch him, Ginny reached out and traced along Harry's scar with her fingers. She pushed his hair away from his forehead and gaped.

"What?"

"Your scar…"

"What about it?"

"It's faded."

Harry made a face. "What do you mean? It takes months or years for scars to fade."

Ginny shook her head. "No, Harry, it's faded. You can still see it but only barely. I wonder if it'll disappear all together?"

"Doubt it."

"But, since your connection with Voldemort is gone, it makes sense that it wouldn't always be raw and sensitive, yeah?"

Harry shrugged. He removed Ginny's hand from his forehead.

"Harry – I know you said you needed time, but does that mean we can't…"  
"I don't know, Gin. If we're still making love how can you take an objective look at whether or not you want to be with a murderer?"

"Oh, I wish you'd stop calling yourself that. You're not a murderer."

"I am."

"You're not. And, I want to."

Harry brought his head towards hers and kissed her soundly. Her red strands tangled themselves around his fingers as he took hold of the back of her neck, pushing her mouth closer to his. Ginny felt the need of this kiss. They hadn't done anything in days while they prepared emotionally for the Final Battle. She put everything she had into that kiss – her lust, her love, her need. Thoughts tried to invade her brain but she fought hard to keep them out; she wanted her focus to be on Harry and _this_ – their love making.

The prophecy was correct and Ginny suddenly realized this as the thoughts crept into her brain. Draco was alive and he and Rebecca would go back to Slytherin House still concerned first with themselves and being superior. Hermione's pain would eventually fade away and she'd immerse herself in books and NEWTs and whatever she wanted to do after Hogwarts. The bickering would continue with Ron once she gained back her speech. The two of them would have each other; they'd never change. Ginny – she was the same. The Final Battle gave her a few sore muscles from running into walls, dodging curses, and trying to protect herself from a certain stone ceiling that fell to the floor. But, Harry? Harry was already retreating away from them – pulling away. This was different than the summer and Christmas holiday of his fifth year. This time he'd brood alone and retreat within himself. He was convinced he was no better than Voldemort, a murderer, something evil. If he didn't get out of this new state of mind he'd be lost to them forever. He'd be permanently left behind while the others continued their lives normally.

Harry continued to kiss her and Ginny forced herself to pull her mind out of such depressing thoughts and concentrate on the boy in front of her. Still, as Harry pulled up her t-shirt and caressed her body, she knew this kiss was different from all the others.

This kiss was a kiss good-bye.

* * *

Two weeks later, on a Friday night, Ron and Hermione entered the crowded Gryffindor common room levitating trunks in front of them. All of the seats were taken and several students were strewn across the floor, playing Exploding Snap and Wizard's Chess. Conversation ceased completely as the tall redheaded boy and bushy haired girl climbed through the portrait hole.

Ginny, who had been back at school for two weeks, smiled at them – her obvious happiness at having them back at school radiating through her smile. She closed the book that was open on her lap and stood up from her comfy chair. Throwing her arms around her brother's neck, she told them both how glad she was to have them back.

"Where've you been, mate?" asked Seamus from his spot on the floor next to Lavender.

Ron looked at his little sister. "You didn't tell them?"

Ginny shook her head.

"Harry didn't either?"

"Harry doesn't talk to anyone," said Seamus. "He hides in Hagrid's empty hut. I've seen him walking there. None of us know what he's up to. He comes in at curfew, goes to bed, and leaves before the rest of us get up." Seamus shrugged. "It's weird, mate. But, can't you tell us?"

"Yes," said Lavender, "we've all been dying to know where you've been and what you've been doing. We read in the _Daily Prophet_ that you lot killed Voldemort but it was very vague."

Hermione's eyes went slightly wide. Lavender was interested in a subject other than boys and sex? Amazing. Hermione looked up at Ron and nodded, giving her consent for him to tell everyone the truth.

"Er," said Ron, hestitating. One glance at his sister told him she didn't mind him telling Gryffindor the story either. Ron sat down on his trunk and rubbed his hands together. "Well… Actually, we were taken to a safe house where no one would know where we were expect for our Secret Keeper—"

"Who was that?" Parvati asked from the other side of Lavender.

"Uh, Professor Lupin. We stayed at the house and researched Defense mainly, but Hermione _forced_ us to do other things like Potions" – Hermione's cheeks flushed at the mention of Potions – "and other subjects so we wouldn't fall behind when it was time to take NEWTs. She figured out a clever plan to defeat Voldemort which involved us learning to become Animagi and Harry learning to perfect his skills at being a Metamorphmagus."

A cumulative gasp spread across the common room.

"You're an Animagus?" asked Dean, scoffing. "I didn't know you were clever enough for that."

"He is!" Ginny said. "He's _brilliant_."

"What are you, then?" Dean asked.

"Er…"

"A Liger," answered Ginny.

"I'm sorry – a what?" asked Lavender.

"You're kidding," said Dean, obviously knowing exactly what a Liger was.

"What is it?" asked Lavender again.

"It's a giant Lion-Tiger animal," said Dean. "They're huge and look like giant Lions, really. I saw one when I was in California."

"You became a Lion!" Lavender exclaimed. "Wow, Ron, that's… well, that's impressive that is."

Ron's ears turned red. "Thanks."

"What're you, Hermione?" asked Lavender.

"She's a mink," said Ron.

Lavender proceeded to laugh loudly. "A mink? _Brilliant_. I always knew you were a minx underneath it all, Hermione."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh along with Lavender. After all, it was rather amusing she'd turn into such an animal.

"Anyway, so Voldemort was hiding out in Malfoy Mansion and we all went there with a bunch of Aurors and we basically fought in a battle you could say. Hermione did her potion and Harry killed Voldemort and the rest of us fended off the Death Eaters."

"How many were there?" asked Seamus. "Death Eaters, I mean."

"Er…" Ron looked at Hermione for the answer.

"Eighty seven total at the Mansion," Hermione said, her voice sounding rather hoarse still. "There's more, though, out there, though."

Throughout the common room people muttered amongst themselves but it was obvious the room was impressed as several times Ron, Ginny, and Hermione heard "wow" and "cool" and "amazing" escape from their fellow Gryffindor's mouths.

"Where've you been for the past two weeks, though?" asked Lavender. "Ginny and Harry've been back for ages."

"St. Mungo's," said Ron.

"We were hurt," said Hermione, giving Ron a warning look. Before their arrival back at school she asked Ron and Ginny not to tell anyone what happened in St. Mungo's. She was embarrassed that every time she woke up it was in the midst of pain stricken screams and, sometimes, thrashing. The pain in her movements had subsided for the most part, but she'd still wake up having nightmares about the unbelievably torturing pain she had gone through for twenty relentless minutes at Malfoy's house.

"We were released a few days ago," she continued. "Now, we're back."

"We've told you all what happened," said Ron, "and the memories aren't that great for us, really. It'd be kind of… nice… if this was the last time we were asked about it."

"All right, mate," said Seamus. "You won't hear another word from me. Although, I do have to say you left the Quidditch team in a right mess."

"We lost the Quidditch Cup," Ginny told her brother.

"Really?"

"Well, they had to appoint a new captain," said Seamus. "Ol' Kirke over there had to take over even though he'd only been on the team for two years. Poor bloke."

"We had to replace our best Chaser, Keeper, _and_ Seeker!" Andrew Kirke piped up from a corner of the common room. "It was _terrible_."

"Well, uh, should I even ask who won the Cup?" asked Ron uncertainly.

"Ravenclaw," answered Parvati. "Ernie helped." She looked at Lavender. "He got quite cute this year."

Lavender nodded excitedly. "I know!"

Seamus and Dean both rolled their eyes at the girls.

"Well, sorry about the Cup," said Ron. "I'm knackered. I'll see you lot at breakfast." Ron stood up, levitating his trunk up the boys' dormitory stairs. Hermione followed him.

"Do you really think they'll stop asking us questions?" she asked when they'd reached the top of the stairs. "I don't fancy on reliving the story over and over again."

"I dunno. They'll be talking about his for a long time, though." Ron pulled her into his arms. "It's so good to hear your voice again – although I may take that back the next time we bicker."

"I sound all hoarse and raspy though like an old hag."

"I don't care."

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"When you talked to me while I was sleeping – I heard you."

"I talked to you a _lot_ while you slept. I got so used to it because you'd make me talk while you fell asleep and then I just wouldn't stop."

"I know. I'd dream the things you said. I'd only start having nightmares when your voice went away."

"I wish I knew. I'd never stop talking, then."

Hermione smiled. "I knew you'd say that. But, even you need your sleep. You were always there, though, when I woke up to calm me down. Ron… I don't know if I can stay by myself…"

Ron pushed her back a little so he could look at her. "What?"

"Well, I mean, what if I start screaming again tonight and I'm in my room…"

"You can stay in my room, you don't have to ask."

"I don't want to _have_ to ask. I feel so vulnerable. I hate it. I'm going to hate it until it stops."

"I know." Ron pulled out of the hug completely and opened the door to the Head Boy room. They both noted that the room looked completely the same as they entered it, setting their trunks down at the end of Ron's bed. He closed the door and flopped down on his bed. Hermione settled in next to him.

"I missed this bed," said Ron. "I missed this room."

"Me too."

"I'm really glad you're all right," said Ron, growing very serious. "I mean… I wasn't sure what I'd do if you'd been insane like Neville's parents. Honestly, that first time when you woke up screaming and all the Healers were in the room – I thought you were insane. I thought I was going to have to fend off Lockhart while I tried to visit you and have you give me bubblegum wrappers."

"I woke up and the pain was excruciating. Ron, you cannot imagine how much it _hurt_. And I was still in a bit of a dreamlike state and all the Healers looked like Death Eaters, but when I heard your voice I was able to wake up and calm down even though it still hurt."

Ron rubbed at his eyes.

"I heard you cry."

"I didn't cry."

"Yes, you did." Hermione smiled.

"Well, for fuck's sake, 'Mione, I thought I'd lost you. I mean, I literally felt my heart just rip in half."

"I didn't know you loved me that much."

Ron nodded. "Even more than that."

"You took care of me again just like when my parents died."

"I'll always take care of you." Ron picked up the hand that had the paper ring on it and fingered it.

"I feel guilty when you do, though. I feel like I don't take care of you enough."

"Oh, you take care of me plenty, believe me. And when you stop hurting so much, you'll take care of me again." Ron winked.

Hermione blushed. "Honestly, though, Ron… It still might be a while. I got out of breath just walking up the dormitory stairs. And sometimes I'll randomly feel a sharp pain searing through my body…"

"Yeah, Guthrie said that would happen for a while."

"I know."

"Don't worry," said Ron. "I don't mind waiting, honest. Don't give in unless there is absolutely no more pain anywhere in your body, all right?"

Hermione nodded.

Ron got up and went to his trunk and pulled out his pajamas. "Do you want yours?" he asked. When Hermione nodded he opened her trunk as well and pulled out the long sleeveless blue gown she wore in the spring and summer. They stripped and put on pajamas and climbed into bed. Ron waited for Hermione to settle in comfortably before wrapping his arms around her.

He'd started telling her stories to get her to fall asleep after five days of her being at St. Mungo's. He could simply not think of anything to tell her so he began to make stuff up – drawing inspiration from what he remembered from History of Magic because he knew Hermione liked history, even if his version of the Giant Wars were tragically unrealistic.

Tonight, Ron started telling her a story he remembered his mother telling him and Ginny were they were little and everyone else was off at school. It was a Muggle story, written years ago, and the best he could, Ron retold the immortal words of a poor stuffed bunny who was able to escape from a fire and become a real rabbit. He thought it was a silly story when he was eight, but for some reason at eighteen it seemed magical and while he told it he imagined telling it to a smaller version of Hermione, a child of his own with bushy hair and an innocent face, much like that of the woman he was certain was going to be the mother.

* * *

As May turned slowly into June Ron spent all of his time isolating himself with Hermione and his sister. He didn't envy Ginny in the slightest for having to come back next year, but hopefully by then the whispers as they entered rooms would cease. Now, though, everywhere they went people talked about them. Sometimes they overheard but it was usually the way everyone grew quiet when the three of them would round a corner that made them believe they were the center of gossip.

Harry was only seen in classes. He didn't show up for meals and the only times Ron, Hermione, or Ginny ever saw him otherwise was when he entered the common room and go straight up to the boys' seventh year dorm to sleep.

Ron could see how it killed his sister and he wanted nothing more than to follow him upstairs each time Harry passed and punching his best mate in the face. Ginny explained how Harry felt himself a murderer and needed time to "think." Ron didn't buy it. There was something deeper going on with Harry, he was sure of it, but he knew Harry would never tell him with a heavy dose of Veritaserum.

Never before had Ron been more relieved to take tests than when the NEWTs arrived. He was quite tired of being at school and wanted to get back to The Burrow and relieve himself from being the center of gossip and impressed stares. Fame wasn't something he liked and if people acted like this when he left Hogwarts and walked the streets of Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley then he might just stay home.

Hermione didn't need to force Ron to study for the NEWTs – Ron gladly did it; it gave him something to do besides feel himself grow angry at Harry for ignoring his best mates. Between the tests Ron and Hermione would sit outside in the sunshine; Ginny would join them if she wasn't in class. They went outside as much as they could. Over two months in a house, never being able to go outside, gave them ultimate appreciation for the sun and blue sky.

After the last test Ron and Hermione laid on their backs, trying to make shapes of the clouds, near the lake. They didn't talk except when laughing at the shapes they thought they saw. They only talked and laughed to keep from thinking. After everything that happened at the safe house, Malfoy Mansion, St. Mungo's, and at Hogwarts upon their return, they were mentally and emotionally drained. Going to The Burrow was looking better and better each day as they knew they'd be able to lay outside with the other Weasleys and no one would bother them about the Final Battle or the aftermath of it. They'd be able to be themselves and live quietly until they were ready to face the Wizarding World again.

Ron took Hermione's hand and laced their fingers together. She allowed a sigh to escape. In three days time they would be back on the train towards Platform Nine and Three Quarters, leaving Hogwarts and seven years of memories behind them for good – memories that they'd never again get to experience like the Sorting Ceremonies or Closing Feasts – memories of Quidditch games, sneaking out after dark with the Invisibility Cloak, SPEW, and loud bickering fights over letters to Vicky – memories of Harry – memories that would only live if they reminisced about them.

As they watched the clouds the only thing in both of their minds was whether or not future recollections would hold Harry or if he would also be just another memory they'd never get to experience again.

* * *

**To Be Continued…**


	38. Chapter Thirty Eight

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

Seamus banished anyone who wasn't a seventh year Gryffindor from the common room the night of the End of the Year Feast.

"This is _our_ End of the Year party," he said, passing around glasses and pulling out three bottles of Firewhiskey to which even Hermione didn't comment.

Ron and Hermione were sharing one of the chairs by the fireplace while Lavender sat between Dean and Seamus on the couch and Neville sat next to Parvati on the floor. Harry, as per usual, was nowhere to be seen.

"All right, then," said Seamus, passing around one of the bottles. "What shall we drink to?"

"No more homework," said Dean.

"No more Potions," offered Ron.

"No more Snape," said Neville, making a face.

Ron took the bottle from Dean and raised his eyebrows at Hermione. She shook her head but he knew her well enough to know that she wasn't going to say anything about him drinking – not tonight. Ron filled his glass and passed the bottle on to Parvati. The chair felt more comfortable the more Ron sipped on his glass, being sure to keep it in his hand, balanced on the arm of the chair. His other arm lay on top of Hermione's legs as she was seated sideways in the chair, curled up in a small ball, leaning against Ron, watching the rest of her fellow seventh years drink and play merry.

"All right, all right," said Lavender, "I think we're all drunk enough—"

Hermione cleared her throat.

"—well, except _Hermione_ to have a bit more fun."

"Oh, no," said Neville, "I've heard about the kind of fun _you_ have when you're drunk. I don't fancy snogging on Seamus or Dean tonight, thank you."

Everyone laughed, even Seamus and Dean, but Lavender shook her head, smiling.

"No, no," she said, "this is our _final_ night here. I'm sure there's things that need to be said or things we want to know about one another that we've been too afraid to ask. But, seeing as how we will only see one another again if we _want_ to I don't see the harm in a little truth telling."

Everyone muttered their consent, even Hermione.

"Who starts?" Parvati asked.

"Er, I will," said Lavender, "since it was my idea. Someone ask me something."

Parvati smiled. "All right – who was the better shag, Dean or Seamus?"

Dean almost choked on his Firewhiskey but Seamus looked rather amused. Lavender put a hand to her chin and tapped her finger against her jaw in thought.

"Well, I don't know. I had much more practice with Seamus so I'd have to say him. Sorry, Dean."

Dean shrugged and forced down the rest of his Firewhiskey, making a face as he did so.

"Okay, my turn," said Parvati, "someone ask me something."

"Er, I have a question," said Seamus. "You wouldn't go out with me this year when Lavender and I broke up because you fancied some other bloke."

"So?"

"So, I want to know who it was."

Parvati mumbled something under her breath.

"What was that? Didn't hear you."

Parvati glared at Seamus. "I said, Ron."

"Excuse me?" said Ron. "Me?"

"Yes."

Ron looked over at Lavender. "But I thought _you_ fancied me – you were always after me about being well endowed like George."

Lavender waved a dismissive hand. "I wasn't serious about that."

"Then, why'd you do it?" asked Hermione. "I mean, I don't care anymore, but it was a little bit annoying when you _knew_ Ron and I were dating and you still talked about his massive—"

"Stop, 'Mione," said Ron before Hermione could take her statement any further.

"The thing is," said Lavender, "is that I have a lot of guts. I don't really get scared of anything except of being completely unclever. Divination is easy – you can make up all the answers and Trelawney wouldn't know the difference. I can't do that with any of my other subjects and I don't do all that well in them. I'm just not clever like you, Hermione. The only thing I really have is being blonde and quite pretty. Since we're telling the truth… the truth is, I was jealous."

"Of?"

"Of you."

Hermione was clearly taken aback. "_Me_?"

"You're pretty _and_ smart and you got Ron. We all knew you two would eventually end up together but since it took you so long to actually do so many of the rest of us began to sort of fancy him. And once the two of you got together it was fun to tease him, especially since I know such intimate information about George. I was jealous he'd want you instead of me since all I have is my sex, you see. That's all the boys want from me."

"That's not true," Seamus interjected.

"Oh, shut it, you know it is," snapped Lavender.

"Do you ever even fancy any of the boys you shag?" asked Dean, looking rather interested in the answer.

Lavender avoided her eyes but nodded. "One."

"Who?"

"George."

Ron groaned. He was _not_ interested in his brother's sex life and sitting here with one of his ex-lovers made the reality all too apparent. A silence hung over the room for almost a minute before Ron broke it.

"So, you fancied me?" Ron asked Parvati.

Parvati managed to look at Ron with a dignified look on her face. "Yes. At the end of sixth year and beginning of seventh. I thought you were cute."

Hermione poked Ron in the chest. "See, I told you you were cute."

Ron blushed.

"All right," said Seamus, "I asked the last question so someone asked me something."

"Okay, I'll ask something," said Hermione. "Just how many girls _have_ you had sex with?"

"Four."

"_Four_?" Dean cried. "I only know of Lavender and Hannah."

"Hannah?" asked Ron.

"Hannah Abbott," answered Dean. He looked back at Seamus disbelievingly. "Who are the other two?"

"Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw and I cannot reveal the fourth girl, I'm afraid."

"There is no fourth girl," said Dean. "You're a rotten liar."

"Am not!"

"I'd get up and smack you but I don't think I can stand," said Dean.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It was me," said Parvati with a large sigh.

"_You_?" Dean was aghast. "But, you wouldn't even _date_ Seamus earlier this year."

"I know, but we sort of dated second term…" Parvati's voice trailed off.

"We kept it a secret," Seamus said, looking at Parvati, "because we knew it was only a matter of time before everyone was hounding us about having sex. And… I didn't want that for her."

"For her?" Dean rubbed at his temples. "What? God, do you actually fancy one of the girls you continually shag?"

Seamus frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. "See here, mate! I'll have you know I've been dating Parvati since the very beginning of February and last night was the _only_ time we've shagged." Seamus tore his eyes away from Dean. "I'm not in the mood to get into any discussions of the heart. Besides, Hermione asked the last question, so it's time for someone to ask her something."

Hermione blushed slightly. "All right, then."

"I have a question," said Lavender.

"I do as well," said Neville from his place on the floor.

"Well, we'll both ask, if that's all right?" Lavender asked.

Hermione nodded. "I suppose."

"What _I _want to know is whether or not you and Ron have shagged yet."

"Of course," said Hermione so matter-of-factly that Ron almost dropped his glass. He quickly took a sip of Firewhiskey. It was one thing that Harry and Ginny knew he and Hermione had had sex before, but it was another thing for the rest of Gryffindor to know.

"_Really_?" Lavender squealed. "Wow. _Wow_. Since when?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't remember things like that."

"You were a virgin," said Lavender. "I _know_ you remember."

"Oh, fine. Valentine's Day. Happy?"

"Very." Lavender smiled. "I cannot believe the two of you finally did it. Good for you. You have to tell me if he's any good."

Ron resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Not that I have loads of experience to compare him to but I think he does quite nicely and that's all I have to say about that."

Lavender frowned but she relented, raising her hands in defeat.

Hermione turned her gaze to Neville, waiting for his question.

"Oh, okay, well, I was wondering what that thing on your finger is," he said.

Hermione looked down at her hand and the paper ring that fit snugly on her finger. She smiled. "It's… well, it's a promise ring, actually," she answered, looking back at Neville.

"A promise ring?"

"Whoa," said Seamus, "like an _engagement _promise ring?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," said Hermione with a shrug.

"How much more complicated?"

"We were at the safe house," said Ron, "and I couldn't very well go out and _buy_ a ring so I made one out of paper so she'd always remember the promises I made to her before we went to go fight…"

"What kind of promises?"

"That's between me and Hermione."

"That's pretty _big_, isn't it?" asked Parvati. "I mean, my parents didn't even talk about marriage until they were almost twenty five and here you are making paper rings."

"You have a different perspective on things when Voldemort is trying to kill you and your friends," said Hermione. "You hold on to the things which are dear to you and you don't let them go."

"Well, sure, but you don't think you're a bit young to already be thinking about promises to get married?" asked Seamus.

"I think it's romantic," said Lavender dreamily.

"It has to do with more than just one promise," said Ron. "Besides, didn't most of our parents get married when they were really young? Mine were married when they were twenty."

"That's because most of our parents were afraid of You-Know-Who," said Neville quietly. "They didn't think there was much other choice."

"Things are different, now. We don't have to make the same life decisions at such an early age," said Seamus.

"We did," whispered Hermione. "We didn't have another choice."

The silence encased the room and felt deafening. Ron decided he had to be the one to break it again. "It's time for Neville to answer a question."

Another silence followed.

"Mmm, all right," said Dean, "I guess I can ask the obvious. Neville, what _do_ you see in Luna?"

The other seventh years let out a snigger; they'd all wondered it at some point themselves.

Neville blushed. "She's not that bad," he defended.

"That wasn't what I asked."

"Um…" Neville shifted his body around on the floor, seemingly uncomfortable with the question. "Well, _now_ I fancy her plenty, but at first it was just because no one else ever looked."

Hermione instantly felt bad for Neville.

"The rest of you always had someone to talk about before bed in the dorm. Dean had Ginny for a while and then he had Lavender. Seamus had Lavender and then Hannah and then Lavender again and then Lisa. Harry had Cho and Ginny. And even before Ron and Hermione started going out we all knew he had her, didn't we? No girl ever looked at me. Luna was the only one."

"But, you're always around birds," said Seamus.

"Who? Hermione used to help me with homework a lot in the past and until Ginny left I talked to her plenty. I suppose I'm around Luna's friends…"

"That's who I mean."

Neville shrugged. "So, what? Besides, does it matter why Luna?"

"I guess not," mumbled Seamus. "Except she's weird."

"Hey!" Neville all but shouted. "So what? I don't have the choice to be overly picky and once you get used to her eccentric habits you see that she's really, really clever and – and besides, _I _like her. It's rather annoying listening to all you guys sitting up in our dorm room talking about sex and not even believing me when I've had just as much experience as the rest of you."

"You're right, mate," said Seamus. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Ron looked down at Hermione but her eyes were closed, her breathing even. He hadn't even needed to talk her to sleep – the others voices must have been soothing enough for her.

"Is she sleeping?" asked Lavender.

Ron nodded.

"She does that a lot."

"It's from the fight," Ron said. "Her nerves and brain and everything are still trying to physically recover. She still has potions that she takes; she just gets tired because of them. I'm going to take her upstairs before I get too drunk to carry her."

"Wow, Ron," said Lavender.

"What?" Ron asked, a confused look on his face.

"You're just such a… man now. When did that happen?"

Ron blushed. "When you weren't looking I suppose." He scooped Hermione in his arms before carefully standing up and walked to the stairs. "I'll see you lot on the train tomorrow." As Ron walked up the staircase he could hear laughter below and Neville's request to "pass the bottle." A smile crept across Ron's face. As much as he wanted to leave Hogwarts, a part of him still thought he might like to stay.

* * *

Some time near morning, but before the sun had a chance to resurface itself, Hermione woke up and realized she was no longer in the common room. She was instantly relieved that she awoke without screaming from nightmares. She didn't so much scream now as wake up crying and whimpering. Ron usually roused her when she cried in her sleep and he'd talk to her as she went back to sleep. The past week or so Hermione found herself waking up without being wet from sweat and tears and it felt wonderful.

Figuring it was almost sunrise, Hermione turned over and hugged Ron's sleeping body. He was so good to her, taking care of her, making sure she slept and ate and took her potions until she was strong enough to do it all herself. They both had a sneaking suspicion that McGonagall knew exactly what was going on, but she never spoke a word of it. All of the professors, save Snape, went easier on them. Hermione felt a bit guilty about it but Ron loved every moment of it – turning in essays a day late or messing up on charms and spells without much reprimand.

Harry, though, didn't appear to have noticed anything different with the way the professors treated him. In fact, he didn't seem to notice anything different at all. Hermione overheard Seamus trying to talk Harry into joining them for the End of the Year party but Harry just retreated into the boys' dormitory and went to bed.

Hermione didn't want to think about Harry; it hurt too much. Instead she turned her attention to Ron next to her. She ran her hands up and down his chest, from Adam's apple to the waistband of the boxers he wore to bed. A groan sounded in Ron's throat and he slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the ceiling; the first thing he felt was Hermione's hands on him. He smiled.

Turning over to his side, he said, "Why are you waking me up?"

"Because we have to get up in a few hours."

"So? A few hours more to sleep." Ron pulled her to him and tried to close his eyes but Hermione wiggled against him.

"This is the last time we'll ever sleep in the Head Boy's room."

"I know," mumbled Ron.

"Won't you miss it?"

"Not orange enough for me."

Hermione smiled. His room at The Burrow was indeed very orange with posters of the Chudley Cannons everywhere. Hermione allowed her hands to travel underneath the waistband of Ron's boxers. While he didn't open his eyes he did sigh against her hair.

"What're you doing?"

Hermione lifted her head and ran small kisses along his jaw and tugged on his earlobe lightly with her teeth; Ron always shivered when she kissed his ear. He sat up and pulled Hermione's blue gown over her head and moved his mouth to her neck while his hands caressed and kneaded her breasts. His boxers were shed before he realized Hermione had even done it and he lay over her, returning his kisses to her mouth.

"You don't have to, if it still hurts."

Truth was, her body did still hurt sometimes but the pain had gone from almost unbearable to endurable and this was their last night at Hogwarts. Ron never once asked her when she'd be ready to resume their old sexual regime; he never pushed or complained and on their last night at school Hermione wanted to give him something to remember it by.

"It doesn't hurt," she whispered. "It'll be fine."

Ron nodded and kissed her again while pushing her knickers off; Hermione kicked out of them. It had been so long since Hermione felt him inside of her. She wrapped her legs around his middle, wanting to cry it felt so good. Their movements matched, their hips meeting each other with each thrust of Ron's. It was slow, the way he was making love to her, but deep and Hermione knew he was holding back so he wouldn't hurt her. She considered, for a moment, to tell him to speed up, to make love to her as he would normally do, but she was a bit scared. Their bodies hadn't been joined since they left Lupin's house and Hermione was still cautious with everything she did as to not created a searing pain somewhere in her body.

This was good, though. This was amazing.

It didn't take Ron long to come; Hermione could feel the warmth from it. He didn't pull out. Instead, he stayed inside as long as he could, allowing his body to drink in the sensations of her. He kissed her.

"I missed that," he said truthfully.

"Me too."

"And I'm going to miss it at The Burrow when there's no privacy."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Me too."

Ron let out a hollow groan in his throat and moved out of Hermione. He moved his mouth to her breasts and then her stomach and finally to his favorite place where he settled his lips and tongue and savored her bit by bit.

* * *

In the Slytherin common room Draco lay on the leather sofa wrapped in a blanket. The other seventh year Slytherin boys – Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Zabini – had all but kicked him out of the dormitory. Instead of enduring their taunts Draco slept in the common room each night after everyone left for bed. Zabini, who Draco always hated for being so neutral about the Dark Lord, never said a word but allowed the other boys to run Draco out of the room. He hated them all.

NEWTs were completed and Draco looked forward to going back to his house, getting away from Hogwarts. Snape told him his house had been reinforced with wards to protect him from any stray Death Eaters that might want to gain revenge on anyone who helped destroy the Dark Lord. Draco didn't think any of the Death Eaters would resurface since the ones who were captured were never going to see the light of day again while rotting in Azkaban. Still, it would be nice going home and feeling protected.

"Draco?"

The blonde Wizard immediately sat up and looked behind him. Rebecca descended the stairs from the girls' dormitories, a green robe hanging off her shoulders.

"What do you want?" Draco had tried desperately to avoid her since his return to school.

Rebecca sat down on the sofa. "Are you going back to your house this summer?"

"Where else would I go?"

"I don't know. To a relative's house?"

"I don't have any relatives; they're all dead. Well, I suppose Bellatrix is still alive but she'd rather have me dead than help me out any."

"Oh."

"Why do you care?"

Rebecca, keeping her gaze focused on Draco, replied, "Because I always care."

"You shouldn't."

"I know. You remind me of that often."

Draco sighed. "So, I suppose your parents are safely back home and all that, then?"

"No, they're staying at their safe house until they feel none of the Death Eaters are going to attack them. My mum's real worried since she's a Muggle and can't protect herself against magic."

"Oh. So, you'll go to the safe house, then?"

"I suppose."

"Where is it?"

Rebecca shrugged. "I don't know yet. Why?"

"In case I decide to send you an owl or something."

Rebecca smiled. "You'd write to me?"

"I don't know. Perhaps."

"I don't expect you to suddenly fall back into my arms and be the way we once were, but it'd be really nice to hear from you this summer. I still have two years left at Hogwarts and it'd be nice if we could be friends…"

"Friends."

"And you can always talk to me about your father. I suppose it was self defense, then, killing him?"

"Not really."

Rebecca smiled. "Always a Slytherin. I'm going back to bed. I'll let you know where I'm staying as soon as I can and you write me."

"I'll think about it."

Rebecca walked back up the stairs and disappeared from view. Draco laid back down on the couch. He might still be a cold hearted bastard but the prospect of going home and owling Rebecca for the summer made living alone in a mansion of ruined possessions and house elves a little less depressing.

* * *

Ginny woke up with the sun just rising over the lake. There were a couple of hours before she had to change and get her trunk packed before heading off to the Hogwarts Express. She knew she was probably the only one who wasn't looking forward to summer; she was rather dreading it. Summer meant staying at The Burrow with her parents, Ron, and Hermione. She truly loved Ron and Hermione but Ginny knew she'd be left out a lot and since Harry had barely spoken to her.

Tears fell down her cheeks in the same tracks they did every night. Ron and Hermione tried to make sure she was included with them. She studied with them and ate with them, but it wasn't the same without Harry. It used to be the four of them since October; they were all inseparable. Ginny felt like someone removed her right arm now that Harry was gone. Intuition told the truth; she and Harry weren't going to be together forever.

Perhaps he'd come back one day – or show up at The Burrow with readied apologies for everyone and he'd be welcomed back to the Weasley family with open arms.

The last time they made love replayed itself in Ginny's mind when she fell asleep each night. It made the realization that Harry was gone real. The way his lips felt… He was telling her good bye with his hands, apologizing for hurting her with his mouth, and letting her go with his love making.

"Fuck him," whispered Ginny to herself, turning over and pulling her blankets over her head. He wasn't the only one going through tough times. He wasn't the only one who felt changed after the Final Battle. They were all damaged in one way or another: Hermione's psyche wasn't the same, waking up in the middle of nightmares, in pain if she moved too quickly; Ron had grown into a man in a matter of hours, taking care of Hermione and protecting his little sister by shielding her from Harry's absence, including her in meals and study times, trying to make her laugh, knowing what was expected of him with NEWTs and doing exactly what was needed in order to get the job done; Draco killed his father and there was no doubt in Ginny's mind that he was changed forever because of it, and now that Lucius was gone, Draco was free to love Rebecca if he so chose; Ginny was left deserted by the only boy she'd ever loved, having watched her best friend tortured by a Cruiatus Curse and rushed off to St. Mungo's urgently.

They were all different, now – quiet, separated from the rest of the students by what they'd seen and done. Didn't Harry see this? They were all going through emotional changes, dealing with the aftermath of the battle. As usual, Harry thought about himself and his problems as if the rest of them were all happy little bunnies content to just eat, sleep, and shag. It wasn't reality. It wasn't the truth. Now, along with everything else they were dealing with, they had to deal with Harry's absence.

"Fuck him," Ginny said again. "Fuck him."

* * *

Hermione held onto Ron's hand as they stood in front of the Hogwarts Express, waiting to board. Ginny stood a few feet away from them, determined not to look in the same direction as them. They were watching as Harry talked to McGonagall.

"He's coming over," said Hermione.

Ginny stiffened.

Harry stopped walking and ran a hand through his wild black hair and looked at the ground for a moment before tearing his eyes away from the grass and looking up at his friends.

"I'm not going back."

Hermione let a sound escape from her mouth which sounded like half a shriek and half a cry.

"Where are you going to stay?" asked Ron carefully.

"I'm staying here until Lupin leaves, then I'm going back to his house for a little while."

"You don't speak to us for a month and when you decide we're all worth your time you tell us you're not coming back?"

Harry stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. "I'm sorry. I'm a right prat, I know that. I'm just dealing with some stuff… I didn't want to drag you all into it."

"Too late for that," Ginny whispered. She shuddered noticeably when Harry's eyes traveled to her.

"I'm sorry."

"Are we going to see you again?" asked Hermione.

"One day…" Harry looked away and studied the red engine. "I just have to deal with _me_ first."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, it was nice knowing you. I'm going to get a compartment before the good ones all fill up." He let go of Hermione's hand and boarded the train.

Hermione sighed. "You really hurt him, you know. The two of you've had rows before but he never completely abandoned you. Well… owl us over the summer, Harry." Hermione touched his arm briefly before following in Ron's steps towards the train.

Ginny made her way to the train but Harry stopped her by taking hold of her arm.

"Gin, wait."

"What Harry?"

"I'm sorry."

"You said that already."

"I told you I needed time to think things out—"

"Yeah? Well, you forgot to mention the part where thinking things out meant ignoring us all for a month and forgetting we were your friends."

Harry let go of Ginny's arm. "I know. I'm sorry. I said I was a right prat. I'll write to you this summer, I promise. Don't waste your time on a murderer, Gin. Go on with your life and don't try to think about me – I don't deserve you."

"Well, it'll be a little hard to forget about you if you're owling me."

"Right."

Ginny sighed. "I loved you, Harry. I loved you in spite of your temper and your brooding and everything. I was willing to let you have time to think things out for yourself. But, I'm not willing to let my self-worth be compromised because you feel compelled to ignore me and avoid even simple eye contact. You made me feel like _shite_, Harry, and I'm not willing to feel emotionally abused by you any longer."

Harry took a step back from her, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Unfortunately, I'm still in love with you. If you promise to write to me I promise to go on with my life without you as my…"

"Boyfriend," supplied Harry.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, Gin. I _really_ am."

"You're lost, Harry," said Ginny gently. "You need to find where you are and what you're doing otherwise you really _are_ going to be permanently left behind like the prophecy said."

Harry nodded. "I know."

Ginny reached into her bag for the faded book with yellowing pages. She handed it back to Harry. "This really belongs to you," she said. "Your father gave it to your mother and you should really give it to someone who is going to be the love of your life... Please, it shouldn't be mine to keep."

Harry took the book, his eyes turning glassy. He ran a hand over the cover. The book of love poems. He'd forgotten all about this. Swallowing, he nodded, knowing that Ginny would never accept the book back if he insisted she keep it. He loved her, even if he couldn't bring himself to tell her and be with her.

"I've got to go. Write to me." Ginny headed off towards the train. When she looked back at Harry she was almost certain she saw a tear fall down his cheek, but she just turned back around and boarded the train.

Ron and Hermione had a compartment near the back of the train. Ginny opened the door and shut it, sitting down across from them, stretching her legs out and resting her feet on the opposite bench.

"What'd he want?" asked Hermione.

"To apologize."

Ron snorted disgusted.

They were silent as the train whistle blew and the train started its day long journey back to Platform Nine and Three Quarters in London. Ginny closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, but Ron and Hermione both looked out of the window. They watched as the train passed Hogsmeade, leaving behind Hogwarts – leaving behind professors, the Astronomy Tower, house elves, Room of Requirement, Quidditch practice, three foot essays… leaving behind other students, scandals with Firewhiskey, Exploding Snap, nighttime patrols… leaving behind Harry.

Somehow, even through anger and disgust, that last thought was the most important thing they were leaving behind.

**THE END**

* * *

A/N: After exactly two months the story has been completed... finished... fini!  
  
Okay, to answer a lot of random questions I have gotten in my reviews (in no particular order)  
  
Q: Will you write an epilogue?  
A: Um, no the end to the story solidly stands on its own.  
  
Q: Will Ron marry Hermione?  
A: What do you think? Although I do hope he can get her something other than paper...  
  
Q: Will Ginny marry Harry?  
A: Well, I certainly didn't leave you with that impression at the end of my story, did I? If I did, I certainly didn't do my job. Of course, unless you're Trelawney, the future is uncertain... so who knows what'll happen.  
  
Q: Will Draco marry Rebecca?  
A: I don't know, that depends on how nice Rebecca is - it's all up to her really.  
  
Q: Some of your chapters are a bit like Big Brother, don't you think?  
A: Big what?  
  
Q: Will you write any more stories about Harry Potter:  
A: I don't know. I've had an inkling to write a story about Lily and James or a story about Lupin and Tonks (based on what I've already established in this story) but we'll see.  
  
Q: Are Ligers real?  
A: I've answered this before. Yes. They're real. Go look them up online - you're reading my story so I know you have internet access.  
  
Q: Are you going to write a sequel to "Finally!"?  
A: Hmmm... That really all depends on the readers of this story. If enough people let me know that they want a sequel I shall consider writing one - I have some ideas for one, however this story took me two full months to write, which is rather a long commitment so if there are enough people who I think would read it, I'll write one. (I don't write fanfiction for my own jollies.)  
  
Okay, that is all!! Hope you enjoyed my story - love, heartbreak, angst, tragedy, and Naked Ron!  



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